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^be  Englisb  dramatists 


CHRISTOPHER   MARLOWE 


VOLUME  THE  SECOND 


0dfxa  fj.kv  (popiu-yyi  Trafirpuvoicri  t'  iv  ivTecnv  avXuiv. 

Pindar,  Olymp.  vii. 


THE    WORKS 


OF 


CHRISTOPHER   MARLOWE 


EDITED   BY 


A.    H.    BULLEN,    B.A. 


IN   THREE   VOLUMES 


VOLUME  THE  SECOND 


LONDON 
10 HN    (  .    NIMMC) 
14,   KING    WILLIAM   STREET,   STRAND,   W.C. 

-MDCCCLXXXV 


r  IN 

2.6^^1  71224 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL,  II. 


PAGE 


THE  JEW  OF  MALTA i 

EDWARD  THE  SECOND 115 

THE  MASSACRE  AT  PARIS 235 

THE  TRAGEDY  OF  DIDO,  QUEEN  OF  CARTHAGE       .  299 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIIOSIsIlA 
SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LJBBART 


THE  JEW  OF  MALTA. 


VOL.  II. 


Of  the  Je^v  of  Malta  there  is  no  earlier  edition  than  the  4to.  of  1633, 
which  was  published  under  the  auspices  of  the  well-known  dramatist 
Thomas  Hey  wood.  The  title  is  : —  The  Famous  Tragedy  of  the 
Rich  lew  of  Malta.  As  it  was  playd  before  the  King  ajid  Queene, 
in  His  Majesties  Theatre  at  White-Hall,  by  her  Majesties  Servants 
at  the  Cock-pit.  Written  by  Christopher  Mario.  London :  Printed 
by  I.  B.  for  Nicholas  Vavasour,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  Shop  in  the 
Inner-Temple,  neere  the  Church.     1633.     No  later  4to.  appeared. 


TO 
MY  WORTHY  FRIEND, 

MASTER  THOMAS  HAMMON, 

OF  gray's  inn,  &c. 

This  play,  composed  by  so  worthy  an  author  as  Mr.  Marlowe, 
and  the  part  of  the  Jew  presented  by  so  unimitable  an  actor  as 
Mr.  Alleyn,  being  in  this  later  age  commended  to  the  stage  ;  as  I 
ushered  it  unto  the  Court,  and  presented  it  to  the  Cock-pit,  with  these 
prologues  and  epilogues  here  inserted,  so  now  being  newly  brought 
to  the  press,  I  was  loth  it  should  be  published  without  the  ornament 
of  an  Epistle  ;  making  choice  of  you  unto  whom  to  devote  it ;  than 
whom  (of  all  those  gentlemen  and  acquaintance,  within  the  compass 
of  my  long  knowledge)  there  is  none  more  able  to  tax  ignorance,  or 
attribute  right  to  merit.  Sir,  you  have  been  pleased  to  grace  some  of 
mine  own  works  with  your  courteous  patronage  ;  ^  I  hope  this  will  not 
be  the  worse  accepted,  because  commended  by  me  ;  over  whom,  none 
can  claim  more  power  or  privilege  than  yourself.  I  had  no  better 
a  new-year's  gift  to  present  you  with  ;  receive  it  therefore  as  a 
continuance  of  that  inviolable  obligement,  by  which,  he  rests  still 
engaged ;  who  as  he  ever  hath,  shall  always  remain, 

Tuissimus  : 

Tho.  Heywood. 


1  Heywood  dediciit&i  to  Thoma.s'H.a.inmon  the  Second  Part  of  the  J^at'r  Maid 
of  the  West  (1631),  and  the  First  Part  of  the;/n;M  Age  (1632). 


THE  JEW  OF  MALTA. 


THE  PROLOGUE  SPOKEN  AT  COURT. 

Gracious  and  Great,  that  we  so  boldly  dare, 

('Mongst  other  plays  that  now  in  fashion  are) 

To  present  this,  writ  many  years  agooe, 

And  in  that  age  thought  second  unto  none, 

We  humbly  crave  your  pardon  :  We  pursue 

The  story  of  a  rich  and  famous  Jew 

Who  lived  in  Malta  :  you  shall  find  him  still, 

In  all  his  projects,  a  sound  Machiavill; 

And  that's  his  character.     He  that  hath  past 

So  many  censures,  is  now  come  at  last 

To  have  your  princely  ears  :  grace  you  him  ;  then 

You  crown  the  action,  and  renown  the  pen. 


EPILOGUE. 

It  is  our  fear  (dread  sovereign)  we  have  bin 
Too  tedious  ;  neither  can't  be  less  than  sin 
To  wrong  your  princely  patience  :  If  we  have, 
(Thus  low  dejected)  we  your  pardon  crave  : 
And  if  aught  here  offend  your  ear  or  sight, 
We  only  act  and  speak  what  others  write. 


THE  PROLOGUE  TO  THE  STAGE. 

AT  THE  COCK-PIT. 

We  know  not  how  our  play  may  pass  this  stage, 
But  by  the  best  of  poets  ^  in  that  age 
The  Malta  Jew  had  being,  and  was  made  ; 
And  he,  then  by  the  best  of  actors  ^  played  ; 
In  Hero  and  Leander,  one  did  gain 
A  lasting  memory  :  in  Tamburlaine, 
This  Jew,  with  others  many,  th'  other  wan 
The  attribute  of  peerless,  being  a  man 
Whom  we  may  rank  with  (doing  no  one  wrong) 
Proteus  for  shapes,  and  Roscius  for  a  tongue. 
So  could  he  speak,  so  vary  ;  nor  is't  hate 
To  merit,  in  him  ^  who  doth  personate 
Our  Jew  this  day  ;  nor  is  it  his  ambition 
To  exceed  or  equal,  being  of  condition 
More  modest :  this  is  all  that  he  intends, 
(And  that  too,  at  the  urgence  of  some  friends) 
To  prove  his  best,  and,  if  none  here  gainsay  it, 
The  part  he  hath  studied,  and  intends  to  play  it. 


1  "Mario."     Marginal  note  in  the  old  copy. 

2  "Allin."  Marginal  note  in  the  old  copy.  In  the  (old)  Shakespeare  Society's 
publications  there  is  a  memoir  by  J.  P.  Collier  of  the  celebrated  actor,  the  founder 
of  Dulwich  College,  Edward  AUeyn. 

3  "Perkins."  Marginal  note  in  the  old  copy.  Richard  Perkins  was  an  actor 
of  great  ability.  At  the  end  of  the  White  Devil  Webster  speaks  of  the  "  well- 
approved  industry  of  my  friend  Master  Perkins,"  and  adds  that  "the  worth  of 
his  action  did  crown  both  the  beginning  and  end."  He  took  the  part  of 
Capt.  Goodlack  in  Heywood's  Fair  Maid  of  the  West,  of  Sir  John  Belfare  in 
Shirley's  Wedding,  of  Hanno  in  Nabbes'  Hatmibal  and  Scipio,  and  of  Fitz- 
y/aXcr  mTia.'i^n^OTX.'s  King  John  and  Matilda.  From  Wright's  Historia  His- 
trionica  we  learn  that  he  died  "some  years  before  the  Restoration." 


EPILOGUE. 

In  graving,  with  Pygmalion  to  contend  ; 
Or  painting,  with  Apelles  ;  doubtless  the  end 
Must  be  disgrace  :  our  actor  did  not  so, 
He  only  aimed  to  go,  but  not  out-go. 
Nor  think  that  this  day  any  prize  ^  was  played 
Here  were  no  bets  at  all,  no  wagers  laid  ;  ^ 
All  the  ambition  that  his  mind  doth  swell. 
Is  but  to  hear  from  you  (by  me)  'twas  well. 


1  "A  metaphor  borrowed  from  the  fencing-school,  prizes  being  played  for 
certain  degrees  in  the  schools  where  the  Art  of  Defence  was  taught, — degrees 
it  appears,  of  Master,  Provost,  and  Scholar.'" — Dyce's  Shakespeare  Glossary. 

2  A  friend  of  AUeyn's  backed  him  for  a  wager  to  excel  George  Peele  in  acting 
any  part  that  had  been  sustained  by  Knell  or  Bentley.  See  Dyce's  Greene  and 
Peele  (ed.  1861,  pp.  330,  331).  In  the  Introduction  to  the  Knight  0/ the  Burning 
Pestle  the  Citizen  says  that  his  prentice  Ralph  "  should  have  played  Jeronimo 
with  a  shoemaker  for  a  wager." 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 

Ferneze,  Governor  of  Malta, 

Selim  Calymath,  Son  of  the  Grand  Seignior. 

Don    Lodowick,    the    Governor''s    Son,    in    love    with 
Abigail. 

Don  Mathias,  also  in  love  with  her. 

Martin  del  Bosco,  Vice-Admiral  of  Spain. 
^^.Barabas,  tkejezu  of  Alalia. 
''Ithamore,  Barabas'  slave. 

Barnardine,  )    E-  . 

JACOMO,  \    ^^^^^•^- 

PiLiA-BoRSA,  a  Bully. 
Two  Merchants. 
Three  Jews. 

Bassoes,  Knights,  Officers,  Reader,  Messengers,    Slaves, 
and  Carpenters. 

Katharine,  mother  of  Don  Mathias. 

Abigail,  the  Jew's  Daughter. 

Abbess. 

Two  Nuns. 

Bellamira,  a  Courtesan. 

Machiavel,  the  Prologue. 

Scene — Malta. 


THE  JEW  OF  MALTA. 


Enter  Machiavel. 

Machiavel.  Albeit  the  world  thinks  Machiavel  is  dead, 
Yet  was  his  soul  but  flown  beyond  the  Alps ; 
And  now  the  Guise  ^  is  dead,  is  come  from  France, 
To  view  this  land,  and  frolic  with  his  friends. 
To  some  perhaps  my  name  is  odious, 
But  such  as  love  me  guard  me  from  their  tongues ; 
And  let  them  know  that  I  am  Machiavel, 
And  weigh  not  men,  and  therefore  not  men's  words. 
Admired  I  am  of  those  that  hate  me  most. 
Though  some  speak  openly  against  my  books,  lo 

Yet  they  will  read  me,  and  thereby  attain 
To  Peter's  chair :  and  when  they  cast  me  off. 
Are  poisoned  by  my  climbing  followers. 
I  count  religion  but  a  childish  toy, 
And  hold  there  is  no  sin  but  ignorance. 
Birds  of  the  air  will  tell  of  murders  past ! 
I  am  ashamed  to  hear  such  fooleries. 
Many  will  talk  of  title  to  a  crown  : 

1  The  Due  de  Guise,  who  organised  the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew. 
He  was  assassinated  in  1588. 


lo  The  Jew  of  Malta. 

What  right  had  Caesar  to  the  empery  ?  ^ 

Might  first  made  kings,  and  laws  were  then  most  sure  20 

When  like  the  Draco's  ^  they  were  writ  in  blood. 

Hence  comes  it  that  a  strong-built  citadel 

Commands  much  more  than  letters  can  import ; 

Which  maxim  had  [but  ^]  Phalaris  observed, 

He  had  never  bellowed,  in  a  brazen  bull, 

Of  great  one's  envy.     Of  the  poor  petty  wights 

Let  me  be  envied  and  not  pitied  ! 

But  whither  am  I  bound  ?     I  come  not,  I, 

To  read  a  lecture  here  in  Britainy,^ 

But  to  present  the  tragedy  of  a  Jew,  30 

Who  smiles  to  see  how  full  his  bags  are  crammed, 

Which  money  was  not  got  without  my  means. 

I  crave  but  this — grace  him  as  he  deserves, 

And  let  him  not  be  entertained  the  worse 

Because  he  favours  me.  \Exit. 


1  This  is  Dyce's  correction  for  "empire." 

2  Olded.  "the  Drancus." 

3  As  a  word  is  required  to  complete  the  verse,  I  have  followed  Cunning- 
ham in  inserting  "but." 

*  All  the  editions  give  "  Britain."    For  the  sake  of  the  metre  I  read 
"  Britainy  "—a  form  found  in  Edward  II.,  ii.  2,  1.  42. 


(  II  ) 


ACT  THE  FIRST. 

SCENE  I. 

Enter  Barabas  in  his  counting-house,  with  heaps  of  gold 
before  him. 

Bar.  So  that  of  thus  much  that  return  was  made  : 
And  of  the  third  part  of  the  Persian  ships, 
There  was  the  venture  summed  and  satisfied. 
As  for  those  Sabans/  and  the  men  of  Uz, 
That  bought  my  Spanish  oils  and  wines  of  Greece, 
Here  have  I  purst  their  paltry  silverlings.^ 
Fie  ;  what  a  trouble  'tis  to  count  this  trash. 
Well  fare  the  Arabians,  who  so  richly  pay 
The  things  they  traffic  for  with  wedge  of  gold, 
Whereof  a  man  may  easily  in  a  day  lo 

Tell  that  which  may  maintain  him  all  his  life. 
The  needy  groom  that  never  fingered  groat, 


1  Old  ed.  "  Samintes,"  for  which  the  modern  editors  give  "  Samnites." 
Between  the  "  Samnites  "  and  the  "  men  of  Uz  "  there  can  be  no  pos- 
sible connection.  My  emendation  suits  the  context.  We  have  Saba 
for  Sabsea  in  Faustus,  xii.  25,  &c. 

2  Old  ed.  "  silverbings."  Dyce  observes  that  the  word  "  silverling" 
occurs  in  Isaiah  (vii.  23) : — "A  thousand  vines  at  a  thousand  silver- 
lings." 


1 2  The  yew  of  Malta.  [act  i. 

Would  make  a  miracle  of  thus  much  coin  : 

But  he  whose  steel-barred  coffers  are  crammed  full, 

And  all  his  lifetime  hath  been  tirbd, 

Wearying  his  fingers'  ends  with  telling  it, 

Would  in  his  age  be  loth  to  labour  so, 

And  for  a  pound  to  sweat  himself  to  death. 

Give  me  the  merchants  of  the  Indian  mines, 

That  trade  in  metal  of  the  purest  mould  ;  20 

The  wealthy  Moor,  that  in  the  eastern  rocks 

Without  control  can  pick  his  riches  up. 

And  in  his  house  heap  pearls  like  pebble-stones, 

Receive  them  free,  and  sell  them  by  the  weight ; 

Bags  of  fiery  opals,  sapphires,  amethysts. 

Jacinths,  hard  topaz,  grass-green  emeralds. 

Beauteous  rubies,  sparkling  diamonds, 

And  seld-seen  costly  stones  of  so  great  price. 

As  one  of  them  indifferently  rated. 

And  of  a  carat  of  this  quantity,  30 

May  serve  in  peril  of  calamity 

To  ransom  great  kings  from  captivity. 

This  is  the  ware  wherein  consists  my  wealth  : 

And  thus  methinks  should  men  of  judgment  frame 

Their  means  of  traffic  from  the  vulgar  trade. 

And  as  thejr  wealth  increaseth,  so  inclose 

Infinite  riches  in  a  little  room. 

But  now  how  stands  the  wind  ? 

Into  what  corner  peers  my  halcyon's  ^  bill  ? 

1  It  was  a  common  belief  that  a  stuffed  halcyon  {J,.e.,  kingfisher),  sus- 
pended by  the  bill,  showed  from  what  quarter  the  wind  blew.  Shake- 
speare alludes  to  the  superstition  in  Lear,  ii.  2, — 


SCENE  I.]  The  yew  of  Malta.  13 

Ha  !  to  the  east?  yes  :  see,  how  stands  the  vanes?      40 

East  and  by  south :  why  then  I  hope  my  ships 

I  sent  for  Egypt  and  the  bordering  isles 

Are  gotten  up  by  Nilus'  winding  banks  : 

Mine  argosy  from  Alexandria, 

Loaden  with  spice  and  silks,  now  under  sail, 

Are  smoothly  gliding  down  by  Candy  shore 

To  Malta,  through  our  Mediterranean  sea. 

But  who  comes  here  ?     How  now  ! 

Enter  a  Merchant. 

Merch.  Barabas,  thy  ships  are  safe, 
Riding  in  Malta  Road  :  and  all  the  merchants  50 

With  other  merchandise  are  safe  arrived, 
And  have  sent  me  to  know  whether  yourself 
Will  come  and  custom^  them. 

Bar.  The  ships  are  safe  thou  say'st,  and  richly  fraught. 

Merch.  They  are. 

Bar.  Why  then  go  bid  them  come  ashore, 
And  bring  with  them  their  bills  of  entry  : 
I  hope  our  credit  in  the  custom-house 
Will  serve  as  well  as  I  were  present  there. 
Go  send  'em  threescore  camels,  thirty  mules, 


"  Renege,  affirm,  and  turn  their  halcyon  beaks 
With  every  gale  and  vary  of  their  masters." 
Sir  Thomas  Browne,  who  discusses  the  subject  in  Vulgar  Errors  (iii.  lo), 
says  that  "  the  eldest  custom  of  hanging  up  these  birds  was  founded  upon 
a  tradition  that  they  would  renew  their  feathers  every  year  as  though  they 
were  alive." 

1  Pay  the  duty  on  them. 


14  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [acti. 

And  twenty  waggons  to  bring  up  the  ware.  60 

But  art  thou  master  in  a  ship  of  mine, 
And  is  thy  credit  not  enough  for  that  ? 

Merch.  The  very  custom  barely  comes  to  more 
Than  many  merchants  of  the  town  are  worth, 
And  therefore  far  exceeds  my  credit,  sir. 

Bar.  Go  tell  'em  the  Jew  of  Malta  sent  thee,  man  : 
Tush  !  who  amongst  'em  knows  not  Barabas  ? 

Merch.  I  go. 

Bar.  So  then,  there's  somewhat  come. 
Sirrah,  which  of  my  ships  art  thou  master  of?  70 

Merch.  Of  the  Speranza,  sir. 

Bar.  And  saw'st  thou  not 
Mine  argosy  at  Alexandria  ? 
Thou  could'st  not  come  from  Egypt,  or  by  Caire, 
But  at  the  entry  there  into  the  sea, 
Where  Nilus  pays  his  tribute  to  the  main. 
Thou  needs  must  sail  by  Alexandria. 

Merch.   I  neither  saw  them,  nor  inquired  of  them  : 
But  this  we  heard  some  of  our  seamen  say, 
They  wondered  how  you  durst  with  so  much  wealth 
Trust  such  a  crazed  vessel,  and  so  far.  80 

Bar.  Tush,  they  are  wise  !  I  know  her  and  her  strength. 
But  ^  go,  go  thou  thy  ways,  discharge  thy  ship, 
And  bid  my  factor  bring  his  loading  in.       \Exit  Merch. 
And  yet  I  wonder  at  this  argosy. 


1  Old  ed.  "By"  (which  might  perhaps  be  defended,  as  meaning 
"good-bye."  Cf.  Shirley's  Constant  Maid,  i.  i, — "Buoy,  Close,  buoy^ 
honest  Close :  we  are  blanks,  blanks.") 


SCENE  I.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  15 

Enter  a  second  Merchant. 

2  Merch.  Thine  argosy  from  Alexandria, 
Know,  Barabas,  doth  ride  in  Malta  Road, 
Laden  with  riches,  and  exceeding  store 
Of  Persian  silks,  of  gold,  and  orient  pearl. 

Bar.  How  chance  you  came  not  with  those  other  ships 
That  sailed  by  Egypt? 

2  Merch.  Sir,  we  saw  'em  not.  90 

Bar.  Belike  they  coasted  round  by  Candy  shore 
About  their  oils,  or  other  businesses. 
But  'twas  ill  done  of  you  to  come  so  far 
Without  the  aid  or  conduct  of  their  ships. 

2  Merch.  Sir,  we  were  wafted  by  a  Spanish  fleet, 
That  never  left  us  till  within  a  league, 
That  had  the  galleys  of  the  Turk  in  chase. 

Bar.  O  ! — they  were  going  up  to  Sicily  : — 
Well,  go, 

And  bid  the  merchants  and  my  men  despatch  100 

And  come  ashore,  and  see  the  fraught  discharged. 

2  Merch.  I  go.  \Exit. 

Bar.  Thus  trowls  our  fortune  in  by  land  and  sea. 
And  thus  are  we  on  every  side  enriched  : 
These  are  the  blessings  promised  to  the  Jews, 
And  herein  was  old  Abram's  happiness : 
What  more  may  heaven  do  for  earthly  man 
Than  thus  to  pour  out  plenty  in  their  laps, 
Ripping  the  bowels  of  the  earth  for  them, 
Making  the  sea[s]  their  servants,  and  the  winds  no 

To  drive  their  substance  with  successful  blasts  ? 
Who  hateth  me  but  for  my  happiness  ? 


1 6  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  i. 

Or  who  is  honoured  now  but  for  his  wealth  ? 

Rather  had  I  a  Jew  be  hated  thus, 

Than  pitied  in  a  Christian  poverty  : 

For  I  can  see  no  fruits  in  all  their  faith, 

But  malice,  falsehood,  and  excessive  pride, 

Which  methinks  fits  not  their  profession. 

Haply  some  hapless  man  hath  conscience, 

And  for  his  conscience  lives  in  beggary.  120 

They  say  we  are  a  scattered  nation  : 

I. cannot  tell,  but  we  have  scambled^  up 

More  wealth  by  far  than  those  thai. brag. of, faith. 

There's  Kirriah  Jairim,  the  great  Jew  of  Greece, 

Obed  in  Bairseth,  Nones  in  Portugal, 

Myself  in  Malta,  some  in  Italy, 

Many  in  France,  and  wealthy  every  one ; 

Ay,  wealthier  far  than  any  Christian. 

I  must  confess  we  come  not  to  be  kings ; 

That's  not  our  fault :  alas,  our  number's  few,  130 

And  crowns  come  either  by  succession, 

Or  urged  by  force ;  and  nothing  violent, 

Oft  have  I  heard  tell,  can  be  permanent. 

Give  us  a  peaceful  rule,  make  Christians  kings, 

That  thirst  so  much  for  principality. 

I  have  no  charge,  nor  many  children, 

But  one  sole  daughter,  whom  I  hold  as  dear 

As  Agamemnon  did  his  Iphigen  : 

And  all  I  have  is  hers.     But  who  comes  here  ? 

1  A  recognised  form  of  "scrambled."     Cf.  Henry  V,,i,  i  : — 
"  But  that  the  scambling  and  unquiet  time 
Did  push  it  out  of  farther  question." 


SCENE  I.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  17 

Enter  three  Jews.^ 

1  Jezu.  Tush,  tell  not  me  ;  'twas  done  of  policy.       140 

2  Jew.   Come,  therefore,  let  us  go  to  Barabas, 
For  he  can  counsel  best  in  these  affairs  ; 

And  here  he  comes. 

Bar.  Why,  how  now,  countrymen  ! 
Why  flock  you  thus  to  me  in  multitudes  ? 
What  accident's  betided  to  the  Jews  ? 

\  Jew.  A  fleet  of  warlike  galleys,  Barabas, 
Are  come  from  Turkey,  and  lie  in  our  road  : 
And  they  this  day  sit  in  the  council-house 
To  entertain  them  and  their  embassy.  i^g 

Bar.  Why,  let  'em  come,  so  they  come  not  to  war ; 
Or  let  'em  war,  so  we  be  conquerors — 
Nay,  let  'em  combat,  conquer,  and  kill  all ! 
So  they  spare  me,  my  daughter,  and  my  wealth.     \_Aside. 

1  Jew.  Were  it  for  confirmation  of  a  league, 
They  would  not  come  in  warlike  manner  thus. 

2  Jeiv.  I  fear  their  coming  will  afliict  us  all. 

Bar.  Fond  men  !  what  dream  you  of  their  multitudes. 
What  need  they  treat  of  peace  that  are  in  league  ? 
The  Turks  and  those  of  Malta  are  in  league. 
Tut,  tut,  there  is  some  other  matter  in't.  160 

I  Jetv.  Why,  Barabas,  they  come  for  peace  or  war. 

Bar.   Haply  for  neither,  but  to  pass  along 
Towards  Venice  by  the  Adriatic  Sea ; 
With  whom  they  have  attempted  many  times. 
But  never  could  effect  their  stratagem. 

1  The  scene  is  shifted  to  the  Exchange. 
VOL.  II.  B 


rv 


i8  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  i. 

iJeiv.  And  very  wisely  said.     It  may  be  so. 

2  Jew.  But  there's  a  meeting  in  the  senate-house, 
And  all  the  Jews  in  Malta  must  be  there. 

Bar.  Hum ;  all  the  Jews  in  Malta  must  be  there  ? 
Ay,  like  enough,  why  then  let  every  man  170 

Provide  him,  and  be  there  for  fashion-sake. 
If  anything  shall  there  concern  our  state, 
Assure  yourselves  I'll  look — unto  myself,  \Aside. 

1  Jew.  I  know  you  will ;  well,  brethren,  let  us  go. 

2  Jew.  Let's  take  our  leaves  ;  farewell,  good  Barabas. 
Bar.  Farewell,^  Zaareth  ;  farewell,  Temainte. 

\_Exeunt  Jews. 
And,  Barabas,  now  search  this  secret  out ; 
Summon  thy  senses,  call  thy  wits  together  : 
These  silly  men  mistake  the  matter  clean. 
Long  to  the  Turk  did  Malta  contribute  ;  180 

Which  tribute,  all  in  policy  I  fear, 
The  Turks  have  let  increase  to  such  a  sum 
As  all  the  wealth  of  Malta  cannot  pay  ; 
And  now  by  that  advantage  thinks  belike 
To  seize  upon  the  town  :  ay,  that  he  seeks. 
Howe'er  the  world  go,  I'll  make  sure  for  one, 
And  seek  in  time  to  intercept  the  worst, 
Warily  guarding  that  which  I  ha'  got. 
Ego  mihimet  sum  semper  J)roximus.^ 
Why,  let  'em  enter,  let  'em  take  the  town,      \Exit.     190 

1  Old  ed.  ^^  lew.  Doe  so  ;  Farewell,  Zaareth,"  &c.  Dyce  is  doubtless 
right  in  considering  that  "  doe  so  "  is  a  stage  direction  (  —  Exeunt  Mer- 
chants), which  has  crept  into  the  text. 

2  A  misquotation  from  Terence's  Andria,  iv.  i,  12,  "  Proximus  sum 
esjomet  mihi." 


SCENE  11.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  19 

SCENE  II. 

E?iter  ^  Governor  of  Malta,  Knights,  and  Officers  ;  7?iet  by 
Bassoes  of  the  Turk,  Calymath. 

Gov.  Now,  Bassoes,  what  demand  you  at  our  hands  ? 

I  Bas.  Know,  Knights  of  Malta,  that  we  came  from 
Rhodes, 
From  Cyprus,  Candy,  and  those  other  Isles 
That  lie  betwixt  the  Mediterranean  seas. 

Gov.  What's  Cyprus,  Candy,  and  those  other  Isles 
To  us,  or  Malta  ?     What  at  our  hands  demand  ye  ? 

Cal.  The  ten  years'  tribute  that  remains  unpaid. 

Gov.  Alas  !  my  lord,  the  sum  is  over-great, 
I  hope  your  highness  will  consider  us. 

Cal.   I  wish,  grave  governor,-  'twere  in  my  power      10 
To  favour  you,  but  'tis  my  father's  cause. 
Wherein  I  may  not,  nay,  I  dare  not  dally. 

Gov.  Then  give  us  leave,  great  Selim  Calymath. 

[  Consults  apart  zuith  the  Knights. 

Cal.  Stand  all  aside,  and  let  the  Knights  determine, 
And  send  to  keep  our  galleys  under  sail, 
For  happily  we  shall  not  tarry  here  ; 
Now,  governor,-  [say,]  how  are  you  resolved  ? 

Gov.  Thus  :  since  your  hard  conditions  are  such 
That  you  will  needs  have  ten  years'  tribute  past, 
We  may  have  time  to  make  collection  20 

Amongst  the  inhabitants  of  Malta  for't. 

1  Scene  :  the  Senate-house. 

2  Old  ed.  "  governours. " 


20  The  J ezv  of  Malta,  [acti. 

I  Bas.  That's  more  than  is  in  our  commission. 

Cal.  What,  Callipine  !  a  little  courtesy. 
Let's  know  their  time,  perhaps  it  is  not  long ; 
And  'tis  more  kingly  to  obtain  by  peace 
Than  to  enforce  conditions  by  constraint. 
What  respite  ask  you,  governor  .?  ^ 

Gov.  But  a  month. 

Cal.  We  grant  a  month,  but  see  you  keep  your  pro- 
mise. 
Now  launch  our  galleys  back  again  to  sea. 
Where  we'll  attend  the  respite  you  have  ta'en,  30 

And  for  the  money  send  our  messenger. 
Farewell,  great  governor  ^  and  brave  Knights  of  Malta. 

Gov.  And  all  good  fortune  wait  on  Calymath  ! 

\Exeu7it  Calymath  and  Bassoes. 
Go  one  and  call  those  Jews  of  Malta  hither  : 
Were  they  not  summoned  to  appear  to-day  ? 

Off.  They  were,  my  lord,  and  here  they  come. 

Enter  Barabas  and  three  Jews. 

I  Knight.  Have  you  determined  what  to  say  to  them  ? 

Gov.  Yes,  give  me  leave  : — and,  Hebrews,  now  come 
near. 
From  the  Emperor  of  Turkey  is  arrived 
Great  Selim  Calymath,  his  highness'  son,  ^q 

To  levy  of  us  ten  years'  tribute  past, 
Now  then,  here  know  that  it  concerneth  us — 

1  Old  ed.  "  governours." 


SCENE  II.]  The  yew  of  Alalia.  21 

Bar.   Then,   good    my   lord,    to   keep   your   quiet 
still, 
Your  lordship  shall  do  well  to  let  them  have  it. 

Gov.   Soft,  Barabas,  there's  more  'longs  to  't  than  so. 
To  what  this  ten  years'  tribute  will  amount, 
That  we  have  cast,  but  cannot  compass  it 
By  reason  of  the  wars  that  robbed  our  store ; 
And  therefore  are  we  to  request  your  aid. 

Bar.  Alas,  my  lord,  we  are  no  soldiers  :  50 

And  what's  our  aid  against  so  great  a  prince  ? 

I  Knight.  Tut,  Jew,  we  know  thou  art  no  soldier ; 
Thou  art  a  merchant  and  a  moneyed  man, 
And  'tis  thy  money,  Barabas,  we  seek. 

Bar.  How,  my  lord  !  my  money  ? 

Gov.  Thine  and  the  rest. 
For,  to  be  short,  amongst  you't  must  be  had. 

1  Jew.  Alas,  my  lord,  the  most  of  us  are  poor. 
Gov.  Then  let  the  rich  increase  your  portions. 

Bar.  Are  strangers  with  your  tribute  to  be  taxed  ?    60 

2  Knight.  Have  strangers  leave  with  us  to  get  their 

wealth  ? 
Then  let  them  with  us  contribute. 

Bar.  How  !  equally  ? 

Gov.  No,  Jew,  like  infidels. 
For  through  our  sufferance  of  your  hateful  lives, 
Who  stand  accursed  in  the  sight  of  Heaven, 
These  taxes  and  afflictions  are  befallen. 
And  therefore  thus  we  are  determined. 
Read  there  the  articles  of  our  decrees. 

Reader.  First ^  the  trihcte- money  of  the  Turks  shall  all 


2  2  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  i. 

be  levied  amongst  the  Jews,  and  each  of  them  to  pay  one 
half  of  his  estate.  70 

Bar.  How,  half  his  estate?     I  hope  you  mean  not 
mine.  \Aside. 

Gov.  Read  on. 

Reader.  Secondly,  he  that  de7iies  to  pay  shall  straight 
become  a  Christian. 

Bar.  How  !  a  Christian  ?     Hum,  what's  here  to  do  ? 

\Aside. 

Reader.  Lastly,  he  that  denies  this  shall  absolutely  lose 
all  he  has. 

All  T^Jews.  O  my  lord,  we  will  give  half. 

Bar.  O  earth-mettled  villains,  and  no  Hebrews  born  I 
And  will  you  basely  thus  submit  yourselves  80 

To  leave  your  goods  to  their  arbitrament  ? 

Gov.  Why,  Barabas,  wilt  thou  be  christened  ? 

Bar.  No,  governor,  I  will  be  no  convertite.^ 

Gov.  Then  pay  thy  half. 

Bar.  Why,  know  you  what  you  did  by  this  device  ? 
Half  of  my  substance  is  a  city's  wealth. 
Governor,  it  was  not  got  so  easily ; 
Nor  will  I  part  so  slightly  therewithal. 

Gov.  Sir,  half  is  the  penalty  of  our  decree, 
Either  pay  that,  or  we  will  seize  on  all. 

Bar.   Corpo  di  Dio  !  stay  !  you  shall  have  the  half;  90 
Let  me  be  used  but  as  my  brethren  are. 

Gov.  No,  Jew,  thou  hast  denied  the  articles, 
And  now  it  cannot  be  recalled. 

\Exeunt  Officers,  on  a  sign  from  the  Governor. 

1  Convert.     The  word  occurs  in  As  You  Like  It,  King  John,  &c. 


SCENE  II.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  23 

Bar.  Will  you  then  steal  my  goods  ? 
Is  theft  the  ground  of  your  religion  ? 

Gov.  No,  Jew,  we  take  particularly  thine 
To  save  the  ruin  of  a  multitude  : 
And  better  one  want  for  the  common  good 
Than  many  perish  for  a  private  man  : 
Yet,  Barabas,  we  will  not  banish  thee,  icx5 

But  here  in  Malta,  where  thou  gott'st  thy  wealth, 
Live  still ;  and,  if  thou  canst,  get  more. 

Bar.  Christians,  what  or  how  can  I  multiply  ? 
Of  naught  is  nothing  made. 

I  Knight.    From  naught  at  first  thou  cam'st  to  little 
wealth. 
From  little  unto  more,  from  more  to  most : 
If  your  first  curse  fall  heavy  on  thy  head. 
And  make  thee  poor  and  scorned  of  all  the  world, 
'Tis  not  our  fault,  but  thy  inherent  sin. 

Bar.    What,    bring    you    scripture    to    confirm    your 
wrongs?  no 

Preach  me  not  out  of  my  possessions. 
Some  Jevys, are.  wicked,  as  all  Christians  are  : 
But  say  the  tribe  that  I  descended  of 
Were  all  in  general  cast  away  for  sin, 
Shall  I  be  tried  by  their  transgression  ? 
The  man  that  dealeth  righteously  shall  live  : 
And  which  of  you  can  charge  me  otherwise  ? 

Gov.  Out,  wretched  Barabas  ! 
Sham'st  thou  not  thus  to  justify  thyself, 
As  if  we  knew  not  thy  profession  ?  120 

If  thou  rely  upon  thy  righteousness, 


24  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  i. 

Be  patient  and  thy  riches  will  increase. 
Excess  of  wealth  is  cause  of  covetousness  : 
And  covetousness,  O,  'tis  a  monstrous  sin. 

Bar.  Ay,  but  theft  is  worse :  tush !  take  not  from  me  then, 
For  that  is  theft  !  and  if  you  rob  me  thus, 
I  must  be  forced  to  steal  and  compass  more. 

I  Kjiight.  Grave  governor,^  listen  not  to  his  exclaims. 
Convert  his  mansion  to  a  nunnery ; 
His  house  will  harbour  many  holy  nuns.  130 

Gov.  It  shall  be  so. 

Enter  Officers. 
Now,  officers,  have  you  done  ? 

Off.  Ay,  my  lord,  we  have  seized  upon  the  goods 
And  wares  of  Barabas,  which  being  valued, 
Amount  to  more  than  all  the  wealth  in  Malta, 
And  of  the  other  we  have  seized  half. 

Gov.  ^  Then  we'll  take  order  for  the  residue. 

Bar.  Well  then,  my  lord,  say,  are  you  satisfied  ? 
You  have  my  goods,  my  money,  and  my  wealth, 
My  ships,  my  store,  and  all  that  I  enjoyed; 
And,  having  all,  you  can  request  no  more;  140 

Unless  your  unrelenting  flinty  hearts 
Suppress  all  pity  in  your  stony  breasts, 
And  now  shall  move  you  to  bereave  my  life. 

Gov.  No,  Barabas,  to  stain  our  hands  with  blood 
Is  far  from  us  and  our  profession. 

Bar.  Why,  I  esteem  the  injury  far  less 
To  take  the  lives  of  miserable  men 

1  Old  ed.  "governours." 

2  In  the  4to.  this  line  is  given  to  the  Officer. 


SCENE  II.]  The  yew  of  Malta.  25 

Than  be  the  causers  of  their  misery. 

You  have  my  wealth,  the  labour  of  my  life, 

The  comfort  of  mine  age,  my  children's  hope,  150 

And  therefore  ne'er  distinguish  of  the  wrong. 

Gov.  Content  thee,  Barabas,  thou  hast  naught  but  right. 

Bar.  Your  extreme  right  does  me  exceeding  wrong : 
But  take  it  to  you,  i'  the  devil's  name. 

Gov.  Come,  let  us  in,  and  gather  of  these  goods 
The  money  for  this  tribute  of  the  Turk. 

I  Knight.  'Tis  necessary  that  be  looked  unto  : 
For  if  we  break  our  day,  we  break  the  league, 
And  that  will  prove  but  simple  policy. 

\Exeunt,  all  except  Barabas  and  the  Jews. 

Bar.  Ay,  policy  !  that's  their  profession,  160 

And  not  simplicity,  as  they  suggest. 
The  plagues  of  Egypt,  and  the  curse  of  Heaven, 
Earth's  barrenness,  and  all  men's  hatred 
Inflict  upon  them,  thou  great  Primus  Motor ! 
And  here  upon  my  knees,  striking  the  earth, 
I  ban  their  souls  to  everlasting  pains 
And  extreme  tortures  of  the  fiery  deep, 
That  thus  have  dealt  with  me  in  my  distress. 

I  Jeiv.  O  yet  be  patient,  gentle  Barabas. 

Bar.  O  silly  brethren,  born  to  see  this  day;  170 

Why  stand  you  thus  unmoved  with  my  laments? 
Why  weep  you  not  to  think  upon  my  wrongs  ? 
Why  pine  not  I,  and  die  in  this  distress  ? 

I  Jew.  Why,  Barabas,  as  hardly  can  we  brook 
The  cruel  handling  of  ourselves  in  this  ; 
Thou  seest  they  have  taken  half  our  goods. 


26  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [acti. 

Bar.  Why  did  you  yield  to  their  extortion  ? 
You  were  a  multitude,  and  I  but  one  : 
And  of  me  only  have  they  taken  all. 

1  Jew.  Yet,  brother  Barabas,  remember  Job.  i8o 
Bar.  What  tell  you  me  of  Job  ?     I  wot  his  wealth 

Was  written  thus  :  he  had  seven  thousand  sheep. 

Three  thousand  camels,  and  two  hundred  yoke 

Of  labouring  oxen,  and  five  hundred 

She-asses  :  but  for  every  one  of  those, 

Had  they  been  valued  at  indifferent  rate, 

I  had  at  home,  and  in  mine  argosy, 

And  other  ships  that  came  from  Egypt  last. 

As  much  as  would  have  bought  his  beasts  and  him, 

And  yet  have  kept  enough  to  live  upon  :  190 

So  that  not  he,  but  I  may  curse  the  day, 

Thy  fatal  birth-day,  forlorn  Barabas ; 

And  henceforth  wish  for  an  eternal  night. 

That  clouds  of  darkness  may  inclose  my  flesh. 

And  hide  these  extreme  sorrows  from  mine  eyes : 

For  only  I  have  toiled  to  inherit  here 

The  months  of  vanity  and  loss  of  time, 

And  painful  nights,  have  been  appointed  me. 

2  Jetv.  Good  Barabas,  be  patient. 

Bar.  Ay,  I  pray,  leave  me  in  my  patience.  200 

You  that  were  ^  ne'er  possessed  of  wealth,  are  pleased  with 

want; 
But  give  him  liberty  at  least  to  mourn, 
That  in  a  field  amidst  his  enemies 
Doth  see  his  soldiers  slain,  himself  disarmed, 

1  Probably  we  should  read — "  You,  ne'er  possessed,"  &c. 


SCENE  II.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  27 

And  knows  no  means  of  his  recovery : 
Ay,  let  me  sorrow  for  this  sudden  chance ; 
'Tis  in  the  trouble  of  my  spirit  I  speak ; 
Great  injuries  are  not  so  soon  forgot. 

1  Jew.  Come,  let  us  leave  him ;  in  his  ireful  mood 
Our  words  will  but  increase  his  ecstasy.  210 

2  Jew.  On,  then  ;  but  trust  me  'tis  a  misery 
To  see  a  man  in  such  affliction. — 

Farewell,  Barabas  !  \Exeuni. 

Bar.  Ay,  fare  you  well. 
See  the  simplicity  of  these  base  slaves, 
Who,  for  the  villains  have  no  wit  themselves, 
Think  me  to  be  a  senseless  lump  of  clay 
That  will  with  every  water  wash  to  dirt : 
No,  Barabas  is  born  to  better  chance. 
And  framed  of  finer  mould  than  common  men, 
That  measure  naught  but  by  the  present  time.  220 

A  reaching  thought  will  search  his  deepest  wits, 
And  cast  with  cunning  for  the  time  to  come  : 
For  evils  are  apt  to  happen  every  day. — 
But  whither  wends  my  beauteous  Abigail  ? 

Enter  Abigail,  the  Jew's  daughter. 

O  !  what  has  made  my  lovely  daughter  sad  } 
What,  woman  !  moan  not  for  a  little  loss  : 
Thy  father  hath  enough  in  store  for  thee. 

Abig.  Nor  [not  ?]  for  myself,  but  aged  Barabas  : 
Father,  for  thee  lamenteth  Abigail : 
But  I  will  learn  to  leave  these  fruitless  tears,  23c 

And,  urged  thereto  with  my  afflictions, 


28  The  y ew  of  Malta.  [acti. 

With  fierce  exclaims  run  to  the  senate-house, 
And  in  the  senate  reprehend  them  all, 
And  rend  their  hearts  with  tearing  of  my  hair, 
Till  they  reduce  ^  the  wrongs  done  to  my  father. 

Bar.  No,  Abigail,  things  past  recovery 
Are  hardly  cured  with  exclamations. 
Be  silent,  daughter,  sufferance  breeds  ease, 
And  time  may  yield  us  an  occasion 
Which  on  the  sudden  cannot  serve  the  turn.  240 

Besides,  my  girl,  think  me  not  all  so  fond 
As  negligently  to  forego  so  much 
Without  provision  for  thyself  and  me. 
Ten  thousand  portagues,^  besides  great  pearls, 
Rich  costly  jewels,  and  stones  infinite. 
Fearing  the  worst  of  this  before  it  fell, 
I  closely  hid. 

Abig.  Where,  father? 

Bar.  In  my  house,  my  girl. 

Abig.  Then  shall  they  ne'er  be  seen  of  Barabas  :     250 
For  they  have  seized  upon  thy  house  and  wares. 

Bar.  But  they  will  give  me  leave  once  more,  I  trow, 
To  go  into  my  house. 

Abig.  That  may  they  not : 
For  there  I  left  the  governor  placing  nuns, 
Displacing  me ;  and  of  thy  house  they  mean 
To  make  a  nunnery,  where  none  but  their  own  sect  ^ 
Must  enter  in ;  men  generally  barred. 

1  Dyce  proposed  "redress." 

2  Portuguese  gold  coins. 

*  Steevens  (on  2  Henry  I V. ,  ii.  4, 1.  42)  quotes  several  passages  where 
"sect  "  is  used  for  "sex." 


SCENE  II.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  29 

Bar.  My  gold  !  my  gold  !  and  all  my  wealth  is  gone  ! 
You  partial  heavens,  have  I  deserved  this  plague  ? 
What,  will  you  thus  oppose  me,  luckless  stars,  260 

To  make  me  desperate  in  my  poverty  ? 
And  knowing  me  impatient  in  distress, 
Think  me  so  mad  as  I  will  hang  myself, 
That  I  may  vanish  o'er  the  earth  in  air. 
And  leave  no  memory  that  e'er  I  was  ? 
No,  I  will  live ;  nor  loathe  I  this  my  life  : 
And,  since  you  leave  me  in  the  ocean  thus 
To  sink  or  swim,  and  put  me  to  my  shifts, 
I'll  rouse  my  senses  and  awake  myself. 
Daughter  !  I  have  it :  thou  perceiv'st  the  plight  270 

Wherein  these  Christians  have  oppressed  me  : 
Be  ruled  by  me,  for  in  extremity 
We  ought  to  make  bar  of  no  policy. 

Abig.  Father,  whate'er  it  be  to  injure  them 
That  have  so  manifestly  wronged  us, 
What  will  not  Abigail  attempt  ? 

Bar.  Why,  so ; 
Then  thus,  thou  told'st  me  they  have  turned  my  house 
Into  a  nunnery,  and  some  nuns  are  there  ? 

Abig.  I  did. 

Bar.  Then,  Abigail,  there  must  my  girl 
Entreat  the  abbess  to  be  entertained.  280 

Abig.  How,  as  a  nun? 

Bar.  Ay,  daughter,  for  religion 
Hides  many  mischiefs  from  suspicion. 

Abig.  Ay,  but,  father,  they  will  suspect  me  there. 

Bar.  Let  'em  suspect ;  but  be  thou  so  precise 


30  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [acti. 

As  they  may  think  it  done  of  hoUness. 
Entreat  'em  fair,  and  give  them  friendly  speech, 
And  seem  to  them  as  if  thy  sins  were  great, 
Till  thou  hast  gotten  to  be  entertained. 

Abig.  Thus,  father,  shall  I  much  dissemble. 

Bar.  Tush  !  290 

As  good  dissemble  that  thou  never  mean'st. 
As  first  mean  truth  and  then  dissemble  it, — 
A  counterfeit  profession  is  better 
Than  unseen  ^  hypocrisy. 

Abig.  Well,  father,  say  [that]  I  be  entertained. 
What  then  shall  follow  ? 

Bar.  This  shall  follow  then ; 
There  have  I  hid,  close  underneath  the  plank 
That  runs  along  the  upper-chamber  floor. 
The  gold  and  jewels  which  I  kept  for  thee. 
But  here  they  come ;  be  cunning,  Abigail.  300 

Abig.  Then,  father,  go  with  me. 

Bar.  No,  Abigail,  in  this 
It  is  not  necessary  I  be  seen  : 
For  I  will  seem  offended  with  thee  for't : 
Be  close,  my  girl,  for  this  must  fetch  my  gold. 

\They  draw  back. 
E?iter  Friar  ^  Jacomo,  Friar  Barnardine,  Abbess, 
afid  a  Nun. 

F.Jac.  Sisters,  we  now  are  almost  at  the  new-made 
nunnery. 

1  The  passage  is  no  doubt  corrupt.  Cunningham  reads  "  unforeseen," 
and  explains  the  meaning  to  be  "a  steady  consistent  piece  of  acting  is 
better  than  having  to  put  on  the  hypocrite  at  a  moment's  warning," 

2  Old  ed,  "  Enter  three  Fryars  and  two  Nuns." 


SCENE  II.]  The  y cw  of  Malta.  31 

Abb}  The  better ;  for  we  love  not  to  be  seen  : 
'Tis  thirty  winters  long  since  some  of  us 
Did  stray  so  far  amongst  the  multitude. 

F.  Jac.  But,  madam,  this  house 
And  waters  ^  of  this  new-made  nunnery  S^o 

Will  much  delight  you. 

Abb."^  It  may  be  so  3  but  who  comes  here  ? 

[Abigail  comes  forward. 

Abig.  Grave  abbess,  and  you,  happy  virgins'  guide, 
Pity  the  state  of  a  distressed  maid. 

Abb.  What  art  thou,  daughter  ? 

Abig.  The  hopeless  daughter  of  a  hapless  Jew, 
The  Jew  of  Malta,  wretched  Barabas  ; 
Sometimes  ^  the  owner  of  a  goodly  house. 
Which  they  have  now  turned  to  a  nunnery. 

Abb.  Well,  daughter,  say,  what  is  thy  suit  with  us  ? 

Abig.  Fearing  the  afflictions  which  my  father  feels     321 
Proceed  from  sin,  or  want  of  faith  in  us, 
I'd  pass  away  my  life  in  penitence, 
And  be  a  novice  in  your  nunnery, 
To  make  atonement  for  my  labouring  soul. 

F.  Jac.  No  doubt,  brother,  but  this  proceedeth  of  the 
spirit. 

F.  Barfi.  Ay,  and  of  a  moving  spirit  too,  brother;  but 
come. 
Let  us  entreat  she  may  be  entertained. 

Abb.  Well,  daughter,  we  admit  you  for  a  nun. 

1  Olded.  "i  Nun." 

•  Can  this  word  be  right  ?    Qu.  "  cloisters  "  ? 

3  Old  ed.  "  A'un,"  *  I.e.,  sometime. 


3  2  The  Jew  of  Malta,  [act  i. 

Abig.  First  let  me  as  a  novice  learn  to  frame  330 

My  solitary  life  to  your  strait  laws, 
And  let  me  lodge  where  I  was  wont  to  lie, 
I  do  not  doubt,  by  your  divine  precepts 
And  mine  own  industry,  but  to  profit  much. 

Bar.  As  much,  I  hope,  as  all  I  hid  is  worth.      \Aside. 

Abb.   Come,  daughter,  follow  us. 

Bar.  Why,  how  now,  Abigail, 
What  makest  thou  amongst  these  hateful  Christians  ? 

F.Jac.  Hinder  her  not,  thou  man  of  little  faith, 
For  she  has  mortified  herself. 

Bar.  How  !  mortified  ? 

F.Jac.  And  is  admitted  to  the  sisterhood.  340 

Bar.  Child  of  perdition,  and  thy  father's  shame  ! 
What  wilt  thou  do  among  these  hateful  fiends  ? 
I  charge  thee  on  my  blessing  that  thou  leave 
These  devils,  and  their  damned  heresy. 

Abig.  Father,  give  ^  me —  \She  goes  to  him. 

Bar.   Nay,  back,  Abigail, 
(^And  think  upon  thejezuels  and  the  gold;    [  Whispers  to  her. 
The  board  is  marked  thus  that  covers  it.) 
Away,  accursed,  from  thy  father's  sight. 

F.Jac.  Barabas,  although  thou  art  in  misbelief. 
And  wilt  not  see  thine  own  aflflictions,  350 

Yet  let  thy  daughter  be  no  longer  blind. 

Bar.   Blind  friar,  I  reck  not  thy  persuasions, 
{The  board  is  marked  thus  -  that  covers  it.) 

1  Dyce  reads  "  forgive,"  perhaps  rightly. 

"  Here  the  old  ed.  gives  "f "  (to  indicate  the  notch  in  the  plank 
under  which  the  treasure  was  concealed). 


SCENE  II.]  The  J  ezv  of  Malta.  'i^-i^ 

For  I  had  rather  die  than  see  her  thus. 

Wilt  thou  forsake  me  too  in  my  distress, 

Seducbd  daughter  ?     {Go,  forget  not,  go}) 

Becomes  it  Jews  to  be  so  credulous? 

(  To-morroiv  early  Til  be  at  the  door. ) 

No,  come  not  at  me ;  if  thou  wilt  be  damned, 

Forget  me,  see  me  not,  and  so  be  gone.  360 

{Farewell,  remember  to-morroiu  morning.) 

Out,  out,  thou  wretch  ! 

\Exeunt,  on  one  side  Barabas,  07i  the  other  side  Friars, 
Abbess,  Nun  and  Abigail ;  as  they  are  going  out, 

Enter  Math  i as. 

Math.  Who's  this?  fair  Abigail,  the  richjew's  daughter, 
Become  a  nun  !  her  father's  sudden  fall 
,  Has  humbled  her  and  brought  her  down  to  this : 
Tut,  she  were  fitter  for  a  tale  of  love, 
Than  to  be  tired  out  with  orisons  : 
And  better  would  she  far  become  a  bed, 
Embraced  in  a  friendly  lover's  arms, 
Than  rise  at  midnight  to  a  solemn  mass.  370 

Enter  Lodowick. 

Lod.  Why,  how  now,  Don  Mathias  !  in  a  dump  .'' 
Math.  Believe  me,  noble  Lodowick,  I  have  seen 

The  strangest  sight,  in  my  opinion, 

That  ever  I  beheld. 

Lod.  What  was't,  I  prithee  ? 


1  I  have  added  the  second  "  go  "  for  the  sake  of  the  metre. 
VOL.  II.  C 


34  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  i. 

Math.  A  fair  young  maid,  scarce  fourteen  years  of  age, 
The  sweetest  flower  in  Cytherea's  field, 
Cropt  from  the  pleasures  of  the  fruitful  earth, 
And  strangely  metamorphos'd  [to  a]  nun. 

Lod.  But  say,  what  was  she  ? 

Math.  Why,  the  rich  Jew's  daughter. 

Lod.  What,  Barabas,  whose  goods  were  lately  seized  ? 
Is  she  so  fair.? 

Math.  And  matchless  beautiful ;  381 

As  had  you  seen  her  'twould  have  moved  your  heart, 
Though  countermined  with  walls  of  brass,  to  love. 
Or  at  the  least  to  pity. 

Lod.  And  if  she  be  so  fair  as  you  report, 
'Twere  time  well  spent  to  go  and  visit  her : 
How  say  you,  shall  we  ? 

Math.  I  must  and  will,  sir  ;  there's  no  remedy. 

Lod.  And  so  will  I  too,  or  it  shall  go  hard. 
Farewell,  Mathias. 

Math.  Farewell,  Lodowick.         \Exeunt  severally.    390 


(     35     ) 


ACT  THE  SECOND. 

SCENE  I. 

Enter '  Barabas  tvith  a  light. 

Bar.  Thus,2  like  the  sad  presaging  raven,  that  tolls 
The  sick  man's  passport  in  her  hollow  beak, 
And  in  the  shadow  of  the  silent  night 
Doth  shake  contagion  from  her  sable  wings ; 
Vexed  and  tormented  runs  poor  Barabas 
With  fatal  curses  towards  these  Christians. 
The  uncertain  pleasures  of  swift-footed  time 
Have  ta'en  their  flight,  and  left  me  in  despair  ; 
And  of  my  former  riches  rests  no  more 
But  bare  remembrance,  like  a  soldier's  scar,  ic 

That  has  no  further  comfort  for  his  maim. 
O  thou,  that  with  a  fiery  pillar  led'st 
The  sons  of  Israel  through  the  dismal  shades. 
Light  Abraham's  offspring  ;  and  direct  the  hand 
Of  Abigail  this  night ;  or  let  the  day 
Turn  to  eternal  darkness  after  this  ! 
No  sleep  can  fasten  on  my  watchful  eyes, 

1  Scene  :  before  Barabas'  house. 

-  Collier  notices  that  11.  i,  2,  are  found  (with  slight  variation)  in  Guil- 
pin's  Skialetheia,  1598.     Cf.  Peele's  David  and  Bethsabe  : — 
"  Like  as  the  fatal  raven,  that  in  his  voice 
Carries  the  dreadful  summons  of  our  death." 


36  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  h. 

Nor  quiet  enter  my  distempered  thoughts, 
Till  I  have  answer  of  my  Abigail. 

Enter  Abigail  above. 

Abig.  Now  have  I  happily  espied  a  time  20 

To  search  the  plank  my  father  did  appoint ; 
And  here  behold,  unseen,  where  I  have  found 
The  gold,  the  pearls,  and  jewels,  which  he  hid. 

Bar.  Now  I  remember  those  old  women's  words, 
Who  in  my  wealth  would  tell  me  winter's  tales, ^ 
And  speak  of  spirits  and  ghosts  that  glide  by  night 
About  the  place  where  treasure  hath  been  hid  :  ^ 
And  now  methinks  that  I  am  one  of  those  : 
For  whilst  I  live,  here  lives  my  soul's  sole  hope, 
And,  when  I  die,  here  shall  my  spirit  walk,  30 

Abig.  Now    that    my    father's    fortune    were    so 
good 
As  but  to  be  about  this  happy  place ; 
Tis  not  so  happy :  yet  when  we  parted  last, 
He  said  he  would  attend  me  in  the  morn. 
Then,  gentle  sleep,  where'er  his  body  rests. 
Give  charge  to  Morpheus  that  he  may  dream 

1  Cf,  Dido,  iii.  3  :— 

"  Who  would  not  undergo  all  kind  of  toil 
To  be  well  stored  with  such  a  winter's  tale  ?" 
The  words  "  in  my  wealth"  have  little  meaning  ;  I  suspect  that  we 
should  read  "mxny youtk." 
2  Cf.  Hamlet,  i.  i  :— 

"  Or  if  thou  hast  uphoarded  in  thy  life 
Extorted  treasure  in  the  womb  of  earth, 
For  which,  they  say,  you  spirits  oft  walk  in  death, 
Speak  of  it." 


SCENE  I.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  37 

A  golden  dream,  and  of  the  sudden  wake,^ 
Come  and  receive  the  treasure  I  have  found. 

Bar.  Bueno  para  todos  mi  ganado  no  era :  ^ 
As  good  go  on  as  sit  so  sadly  thus.  40 

But  stay,  what  star  shines  yonder  in  the  east?  ^ 
The  loadstar  of  my  life,  if  Abigail. 
Who's  there  ? 

Abig.  Who's  that  ? 

Bar.  Peace,  Abigail,  'tis  I. 

Abig.  Then,  father,  here  receive  thy  happiness. 

\Throws  down  bags. 

Bar.  Hast  thou't  ? 

Abig.  Here,  \_T/i  rows  do  7vn  the  bags]  hast  thou't? 
There's  more,  and  more,  and  more. 

Bar.   O  my  girl. 
My  gold,  my  fortune,  my  felicity  ! 
Strength  to  my  soul,  death  to  mine  enemy  ! 
Welcome  the  first  beginner  of  my  bliss  ! 
O  Abigail,  Abigail,  that  I  had  thee  here  too  !  50 

Then  my  desires  were  fully  satisfied  : 
But  I  will  practise  thy  enlargement  thence  : 
O  girl !  O  gold  !  O  beauty  !  O  my  bUss  ! 

[Ifugs  his  bags. 

Abig.  Father,  it  draweth  towards  midnight  now, 


1  Old  ed.  "  walke." 

-  Old  ed.  "  Birn  para  todos,  my  ganada  no  er."    I  have  adopted 
Dyce's  reading. 

3  Dyce  thinks  that  Shakespeare  recollected  this  passage  when  he 
wrote : — 

"  But  soft !  what  light  through  yonder  window  breaks  ? 
It  is  the  East,  and  Juliet  is  the  sun." 


38  The  y ew  of  Malta.  [acth. 

And  'bout  this  time  the  nuns  begin  to  wake ; 
To  shun  suspicion,  therefore,  let  us  part. 

Bar.  Farewell,  my  joy,  and  by  my  fingers  take 
A  kiss  from  him  that  sends  it  from  his  soul. 

{Exit  Abigail  above. 
Now  Phoebus  ope  the  eyelids^  of  the  day, 
And  for  the  raven  wake  the  morning  lark,  60 

That  I  may  hover  with  her  in  the  air ; 
Singing  o'er  these,  as  she  does  o'er  her  young. 
Her7noso  -  Piarer  de  les  Denirch.  \Exit. 

SCENE  11. 

Enter^  Governor,  Martin  del  Bosco,  and  Knights. 

Gov.  Now,  captain,  tell  us  whither  thou  art  bound  ? 
Whence  is  thy  ship  that  anchors  in  our  road  ? 
And  why  thou  cam'st  ashore  without  our  leave  ? 

Bosc.  Governor  of  Malta,  hither  am  I  bound  ; 
My  ship,  the  Flying  Dragon,  is  of  Spain, 
And  so  am  I :  Del  Bosco  is  my  name ; 
Vice-admiral  unto  the  Catholic  King. 

I  Knight.  'Tis  true,  my  lord,  therefore  entreat  him  well. 

Bosc.  Our  fraught  is  Grecians,  Turks,  and  Afric  Moors. 

1  Cf.  Job  xli.  18  : — "  By  his  neesings  a  light  doth  shine,  and  his  eyes 
are  hke  the  eyelids  of  the  morning.''''  So  Sophocles  in  the  Antigone 
speaks  of  the  sun  as  afxipas  ^Xicpapov.  The  reader  will  remember  the 
line  in  Lycidas  : — 

"  Under  the  opening  eyelids  of  the  ?norn." 

2  "  Perhaps  what  is  meant  here  is  an  exclamation  on  the  beautiful 
appearance  of  money,  Hermoso  parecer  de  los  dinos,  but  it  is  question- 
able whether  this  would  be  good  Spanish." — Collier.  Dyce  gives 
"Hermoso  Placer." 

3  Scene  :  the  Senate-house. 


SCENE  II.]  The  yew  of  Malta^  39 

For  late  upon  the  coast  of  Corsica,  10 

Because  we  vailed  1  not  to  the  Turkish  2  fleet, 

Their  creeping  galleys  had  us  in  the  chase  : 

But  suddenly  the  wind  began  to  rise, 

And  then  we  luffed  and  tacked,^  and  fought  at  ease  : 

Some  have  we  fired,  and  many  have  we  sunk ; 

But  one  amongst  the  rest  became  our  prize  : 

The  captain's  slain,  the  rest  remain  our  slaves, 

Of  whom  we  would  make  sale  in  Malta  here. 

Gov.  Martin  del  Bosco,  I  have  heard  of  thee  ; 
Welcome  to  Malta,  and  to  all  of  us  ;  20 

But  to  admit  a  sale  of  these  thy  Turks 
We  may  not,  nay,  we  dare  not  give  consent 
By  reason  of  a  tributary  league. 

I  Ktiight.  Del  Bosco,  as  thou  lov'st  and  honour'st  us, 
Persuade  our  governor  against  the  Turk  ; 
This  truce  we  have  is  but  in  hope  of  gold. 
And  with  that  sum  he  craves  might  we  wage  war. 

Bosc.  Will  Knights  of  Malta  be  in  league  with 
Turks, 
And  buy  it  basely  too  for  sums  of  gold  ? 
My  lord,  remember  that,  to  Europe's  shame,  30 

The  Christian  Isle  of  Rhodes,  from  whence  you  came, 
Was  lately  lost,  and  you  were  stated  ^  here 
To  be  at  deadly  enmity  with  Turks. 

Gov.  Captain,  we  know  it,  but  our  force  is  small. 


1  I.e.,  did  not  lower  our  sails.     Cf.  i  Tamburlaine,  i.  2,  1,  193, 
>  Old  ed.  "Spanish." 

3  Old  ed.  "  left  and  tooke."    The  correction  was  made  by  Dyce. 
*  Established. 


40  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  n. 

Bosc.  What  is  the  sum  that  Calymath  requires  ? 

Gov.  A  hundred  thousand  crowns, 

Bosc.  My  lord  and  king  hath  title  to  this  isle, 
And  he  means  quickly  to  expel  you  hence ; 
Therefore  be  ruled  by  me,  and  keep  the  gold  : 
I'll  write  unto  his  majesty  for  aid,  40 

And  not  depart  until  I  see  you  free. 

Gov.  On  this  condition  shall  thy  Turks  be  sold  : 
Go,  officers,  and  set  them  straight  in  show. 

[^Exeunt  Officers. 
Bosco,  thou  shalt  be  Malta's  general ; 
We  and  our  warlike  Knights  will  follow  thee 
Against  these  barb'rous  misbelieving  Turks. 

Bosc.  So  shall  you  imitate  those  you  succeed  : 
For  when  their  hideous  force  environed  Rhodes, 
Small  though  the  number  was  that  kept  the  town, 
They  fought  it  out,  and  not  a  man  survived  50 

To  bring  the  hapless  news  to  Christendom. 

Gov.  So  will  we  fight  it  out ;  come,  let's  away  : 
Proud  daring  Calymath,  instead  of  gold, 
We'll  send  thee  bullets  wrapt  ^  in  smoke  and  fire : 
Claim  tribute  where  thou  wilt,  we  are  resolved, 
Honour  is  bought  with  blood  and  not  with  gold. 

\Exeu?it. 
SCENE  III. 

Enter  ^  Officers  with  Ithamore  and  other  slaves. 

I  Off.  This  is  the  market-place,  here  let  'em  stand  : 
Fear  not  their  sale,  for  they'll  be  quickly  bought. 

1  Cf.  King  John,  i.  2  : — 

' '  And  now  instead  of  bullets  wrapt  injire. " 
8  Scene  :  the  market-place. 


SCENE  III.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  41 

2  Off.  Every  one's  price  is  written  on  his  back, 
And  so  much  must  they  yield  or  not  be  sold. 

I  Off.   Here  comes  the  Jew ;  had  not  his  goods  been 
seized, 
He'd  given  us  present  money  for  them  all. 

Enter  Bar  abas. 

Bar.  In  spite  of  these  swine-eating  Christians, — 
Unchosen  nation,  never  circumcised, 
Such  ^  as  (poor  villains  !)  were  ne'er  thought  upon 
Till  Titus  and  Vespasian  conquered  us, —  10 

Am  I  become  as  wealthy  as  I  was  : 
They  hoped  my  daughter  would  ha'  been  a  nun  ; 
But  she's  at  home,  and  I  have  bought  a  house 
As  great  and  fair  as  is  the  Governor's  ; 
And  there  in  spite  of  Malta  will  I  dwell, 
Having  Ferneze's  hand,  whose  heart  I'll  have ; 
Ay,  and  his  son's  too,  or  it  shall  go  hard. 
I  am  not  of  the  tribe  of  Levi,  I, 
That  can  so  soon  forget  an  injury. 

We  Jews  can  fawn  like  spaniels  when  we  please  :  20 

And  when  we  grin  we  bite,  yet  are  our  looks 
As  innocent  and  harmless  as  a  lamb's. 
I  learned  in  Florence  how  to  kiss  my  hand, 
Heave  up  my  shoulders  when  they  call  me  dog,^ 
And  duck  as  low  as  any  barefoot  friar ; 
Hoping  to  see  them  starve  upon  a  stall, 

1  The  modern  editors  give  "  Poor  villains,  such  as,"  &c.  ;'but  the  read- 
ing of  the  4to.  is  quite  intelligible. 

2  Cf.  Shylock's  "  Still  have  I  borne  it  with  a  patient  shrug." 


42  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  u. 

Or  else  be  gathered  for  in  our  Synagogue, 

That,  when  the  offering-basin  comes  to  me, 

Even  for  charity  I  may  spit  into't. 

Here  comes  Don  Lodowick,  the  Governor's  son,  30 

One  that  I  love  for  his  good  father's  sake. 

Enter  Lodowick. 

Lod.   I  hear  the  wealthy  Jew  walked  this  way  : 
I'll  seek  him  out,  and  so  insinuate, 
That  I  may  have  a  sight  of  Abigail ; 
For  Don  Mathias  tells  me  she  is  fair. 

Bar.  Now  will  I  show  myself 
To  have  more  of  the  serpent  than  the  dove ; 
That  is — more  knave  than  fool. 

Lod.  Yond'  walks  the  Jew ;  now  for  fair  Abigail. 

Bar.  Ay,  ay,  no  doubt  but  she's  at  your  command.  40 

\_Aside. 

Lod.  Barabas,  thou  know'st  I  am  the  Governor's  son. 

Bar.  I  would  you  were  his  father  too,  sir ; 
That's  all  the  harm  I  wish  you. — The  slave  looks 
Like  a  hog's-cheek  new  singed.  [Aside. 

Lod.  Whither  walk'st  thou,  Barabas  ? 

Bar.  No  farther  :  'tis  a  custom  held  with  us, 
That  when  we  speak  with  Gentiles  like  to  you, 
We  turn  into  the  air  to  purge  ourselves  : 
For  unto  us  the  promise  doth  belong. 

Lod.  Well,  Barabas,  canst  help  me  to  a  diamond  ?    50 

Bar.  O,  sir,  your  father  had  my  diamonds. 
Yet  I  have  one  left  that  will  serve  your  turn : — 
I  mean  my  daughter :  but  ere  he  shall  have  her 


SCENE  III.]  The  yew  of  Malta.  43 

I'll  sacrifice  her  on  a  pile  of  wood. 

I  ha'  the  poison  of  the  city  [?]  for  him, 

And  the  white  leprosy.  \Aside. 

Lod.  What  sparkle  does  it  give  without  a  foil  ? 

Bar.  The  diamond  that  I  talk  of  ne'er  was  foiled  : — 
But  when  he  touches  it,  it  will  be  foiled  : —  [Aside. 

Lord  Lodowick,  it  sparkles  bright  and  fair.  60 

Zod.  Is  it  square  or  pointed,  pray  let  me  know. 

Bar.  Pointed  it  is,  good  sir — but  not  for  you.    [Aside. 

Lod.  I  like  it  much  the  better. 

Bar.  So  do  I  too. 

Lod.   How  shows  it  by  night  ? 

Bar.  Outshines  Cynthia's  rays  : 
You'll  like  it  better  far  o'  nights  than  days.  [Aside. 

Lod.  And  what's  the  price  ? 

Bar.    Your  life  an'  if  you   have  it.     [Aside^     O  my 
lord, 
We  will  not  jar  about  the  price ;  come  to  my  house 
And  I  will  give 't  your  honour — with  a  vengeance.    [Aside- 

Lod.  No,  Barabas,  I  will  deserve  it  first.  70 

Bar.  Good  sir. 
Your  father  has  deserved  it  at  my  hands. 
Who,  of  mere  charity  and  Christian  truth. 
To  bring  me  to  religious  purity. 
And  as  it  were  in  catechising  sort. 
To  make  me  mindful  of  my  mortal  sins. 
Against  my  will,  and  whether  I  would  or  no, 
Seized  all  I  had,  and  thrust  me  out  o'  doors, 
And  made  my  house  a  place  for  nuns  most  chaste. 

Lod.  No  doubt  your  soul  shall  reap  the  fruit  of  it.     So 


44  The  J ew  of  Malta.  [acth. 

Bar.  Ay,  but,  my  lord,  the  harvest  is  far  off 
And  yet  I  know  the  prayers  of  those  nuns 
And  holy  friars,  having  money  for  their  pains, 
Are  wondrous ; — and  indeed  do  no  man  good :      \Aside. 
And  seeing  they  are  not  idle,  but  still  doing, 
'Tis  likely  they  in  time  may  reap  some  fruit, 
I  mean  in  fulness  of  perfection. 

Lod.  Good  Barabas,  glance  not  at  our  holy  nuns. 

Bar.  No,  but  I  do  it  through  a  burning  zeal, — 
Hoping  ere  long  to  set  the  house  afire ;  90 

For  though  they  do  a  while  increase  and  multiply, 
I'll  have  a  saying  to  ^  that  nunnery. —  \^Aside. 

As  for  the  diamond,  sir,  I  told  you  of. 
Come  home  and  there's  no  price  shall  make  us  part. 
Even  for  your  honourable  father's  sake. — 
It  shall  go  hard  but  I  will  see  your  death. —  \Aside. 

But  now  I  must  be  gone  to  buy  a  slave, 

Lod.  And,  Barabas,  I'll  bear  thee  company. 

Bar.  Come  then — here's  the  market-place. 
What's  the  price  of  this  slave  ?     Two  hundred  crowns  ! 
Do  the  Turks  weigh  so  much  ? 

I  Off.  Sir,  that's  his  price,  loi 

Bar.  What,  can  he  steal  that  you  demand  so  much  ? 
Belike  he  has  some  new  trick  for  a  purse ; 
And  if  he  has,  he  is  worth  three  hundred  plates,^ 


1  Dyce  quotes  from  Barnabe  Barnes'  Divils  Charter,  1607,  "  For  I 
must  have  a  saying  to  those  bottels." 

2  Pieces  of  silver.     Cf.  Ant.  and  Cleo.  : — 

"  Realms  and  islands  were 
hs plates  dropt  from  his  pocket." 


SCENE  III.]  The  yew  of  Malta.  45 

So  that,  being  bought,  the  town-seal  might  be  got 
To  keep  him  for  his  lifetime  from  the  gallows : 
The  sessions  day  is  critical  to  thieves, 
And  few  or  none  'scape  but  by  being  purged. 

Lod.   Rat'st  thou  this  ]\Ioor  but  at  two  hundred  plates  ? 

I  Off.  No  more,  my  lord.  no 

Bar.  Why  should  this  Turk  be  dearer  than  that  Moor  ? 

I  Off.  Because  he  is  young  and  has  more  qualities. 

Bar.  What,  hast  the  philosopher's  stone?  and  thou 
hast,  break  my  head  with  it,  I'll  forgive  thee. 

Slave?-  No,  sir ;  I  can  cut  and  shave. 

Bar.  Let  me  see,  sirrah,  are  you  not  an  old  shaver  ?  ^ 

Slave.^  Alas,  sir  !  I  am  a  very  youth. 

Bar.  A  youth  ?  I'll  buy  you,  and  marry  you  to  Lady 
Vanity,'*  if  you  do  well. 

Slave.^  I  will  serve  you,  sir.  120 

Bar.  Some  wicked  trick  or  other.  It  may  be,  under 
colour  of  shaving,  thou'lt  cut  my  throat  for  my  goods. 
Tell  me,  hast  thou  thy  health  well  ? 

Slave.^  Ay,  passing  well. 

Bar.  So  much  the  worse ;  I  must  have  one  that's 
sickly,  an't  be  but  for  sparing  victuals  :  'tis  not  a  stone  of 
beef  a  day  will  maintain  you  in  these  chops  ;  let  me  see 
one  that's  somewhat  leaner. 


1  Olded.  "  Itha." 

2  A  cant  word  still  in  use. 

3  Olded.  "/M." 

*  An  allegorical  character  in  the  old  moralities.  Cf.  i  Henry  IV.,  ii. 
4  : — "  That  reverend  vice,  that  grey  iniquity,  that  vanity  in  years."  In 
the  Devil  is  an  Ass,  "  Lady  Vanity  "  is  coupled  with  "  Iniquity." 


46  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  n. 

I  Off.  Here's  a  leaner,  how  like  you  him  ? 

Bar.  Where  wast  thou  born  ?  130 

liha.  In  Thrace  ;  brought  up  in  Arabia. 

Bar.  So  much  the  better,  thou  art  for  my  turn. 
An  hundred  crowns  ?  I'll  have  him  ;  there's  the  coin. 

I  Off.  Then  mark  him,  sir,  and  take  him  hence. 

Bar.  Ay,  mark  him,  you  were  best,  for  this  is  he 
That  by  my  help  shall  do  much  villainy.  \Aside. 

My  lord,  farewell :  Come,  sirrah,  you  are  mine. 
As  for  the  diamond,  it  shall  be  yours  ; 
I  pray,  sir,  be  no  stranger  at  my  house. 
All  that  I  have  shall  be  at  your  command.  140 

Enter  Mathias  and  his  Mother.^ 

Math.  What  makes  the  Jew  and  Lodowick  so  private  ? 
I  fear  me  'tis  about  fair  Abigail.  \_Aside. 

Bar.  Yonder  comes  Don  Mathias,  let  us  stay  ;  2 

\Exit  Lodowick 
He  loves  my  daughter,  and  she  holds  him  dear : 
But  I  have  sworn  to  frustrate  both  their  hopes. 
And  be  revenged  upon  the  Governor. 

Moth.  This  Moor  is  comeliest,  is  he  not  ?  speak,  son. 

Math.  No,  this  is  the  better,  mother ;  view  this  well 

Bar.  Seem  not  to  know  me  here  before  your  mother. 
Lest  she  mistrust  the  match  that  is  in  hand :  150 

When  you  have  brought  her  home,  come  to  my  house  ; 
Think  of  me  as  thy  father ;  son,  farewell. 

Math.  But  wherefore  talked  Don  Lodowick  with  you  ? 

1  Old  ed.  "  Mater."  2  Stop  our  conversation. 


SCENE  III.]  The  y ew  of  Malta.  47 

Bar.  Tush !    man,    we   talked   of  diamonds,    not   of 
Abigail. 

Moth.  Tell  me,  Mathias,  is  not  that  the  Jew? 

Bar.  As  for  the  comment  on  the  Maccabees, 
I  have  it,  sir,  and  'tis  at  your  command. 

Math.  Yes,  madam,  and  my  talk  with  him  was  [but]  ^ 
About  the  borrowing  of  a  book  or  two. 

Moth.  Converse   not   with   him,   he's   cast   off    from 
heaven.  160 

Thou  hast  thy  crowns,  fellow ;  come,  let's  away. 

Math.  Sirrah,  Jew,  remember  the  book. 

Bar.  Marry  will  I,  sir. 

[Exeunt  Mathias  and  his  Mother. 

Off.  Come,  I  have  made 
A  reasonable  market ;  let's  away. 

[Exeunt  Officers  with  slaves. 

Bar.  Now  let  me  know  thy  name,  and  therewithal 
Thy  birth,  condition,  and  profession. 

Itha.   Faith,  sir,   my  birth  is  but  mean  :  my  name's 
Ithamore,  my  profession  what  you  please. 

Bar.  Hast  thou  no  trade  ?  then  listen  to  my  words,  170 
And  I  will  teach  [thee]  that  shall  stick  by  thee : 
First  be  thou  void  of  these  affections. 
Compassion,  love,  vain  hope,  and  heartless  fear, 
Be  moved  at  nothing,  see  thou  pity  none. 
But  to  thyself  smile  when  the  Christians  moan. 

Jtha.  O  brave  !  master,  I  worship  your  nose^  for  this. 


1  I  have  followed  Dyce's  suggestion  in  adding  this  word. 

8  An  important  part  in^  Barabas'  get-up  was  his  large  nose.     In 


48  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  n. 

Bar.  As  ^  for  myself,  I  walk  abroad  o'  nights 
And  kill  sick  people  groaning  under  walls  : 
Sometimes  I  go  about  and  poison  wells ; 
And  now  and  then,  to  cherish  Christian  thieves,  180 

I  am  content  to  lose  some  of  my  crowns, 
That  I  may,  walking  in  my  gallery, 
See  'em  go  pinioned  along  by  my  door. 
Being  young,  I  studied  physic,  and  began 
To  practise  first  upon  the  Italian  ; 
There  I  enriched  the  priests  with  burials, 
And  always  kept  the  sextons'  arms  in  ure  ^ 
With  digging  graves  and  ringing  dead  men's  knells  : 
And  after  that  was  I  an  engineer, 

And  in  the  wars  'twixt  France  and  Germany,  190 

Under  pretence  of  helping  Charles  the  Fifth, 
Slew  friend  and  enemy  with  my  stratagems. 
Then  after  that  was  I  an  usurer. 
And  with  extorting,  cozening,  forfeiting. 
And  tricks  belonging  unto  brokery, 
I  filled  the  jails  with  bankrupts  in  a  year. 
And  with  young  orphans  planted  hospitals, 
And  every  moon  made  some  or  other  mad. 
And  now  and  then  one  hang  himself  for  grief. 
Pinning  upon  his  breast  a  long  great  scroll  200 

How  I  with  interest  tormented  him. 
But  mark  how  I  am  blest  for  plaguing  them ; 


William  Rowley's  Search  for  Money,  1609,  there  is  an  allusion  to  the 
"  artificial  Jew  of  Malta's  nose." 

1  In  Titus  Andronicus  Aaron  gives  a  somewhat  similar  catalogue  of 
villainies.  2  Use. 


SCENE  III.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  49 

I  have  as  much  coin  as  will  buy  the  town. 

But  tell  me  now,  how  hast  thou  spent  thy  time? 

Itha.  'Faith,  master, 
In  setting  Christian  villages  on  fire, 
Chaining  of  eunuchs,  binding  galley-slaves. 
One  time  I  was  an  hostler  in  an  inn, 
And  in  the  night-time  secretly  would  I  steal 
To  travellers'  chambers,  and  there  cut  their  throats :  210 
Once  at  Jerusalem,  where  the  pilgrims  kneeled, 
I  strewed  powder  on  the  marble  stones. 
And  therewithal  their  knees  would  rankle  so 
That  I  have  laughed  a-good  ^  to  see  the  cripples 
Go  limping  home  to  Christendom  on  stilts. 

Bar.  Why  this  is  something :  make  account  of  me 
As  of  thy  fellow ;  we  are  villains  both  : 
Both  circumcised,  we  hate  Christians  both : 
Be  true  and  secret,  thou  shalt  want  no  gold. 
But  stand  aside,  here  comes  Don  Lodowick.  220 

E7iter  Lodowick. 

Lod.  O  Barabas,  well  met ; 
Where  is  the  diamond  you  told  me  of? 

Bar.  I  have  it  for  you,  sir ;  please  you  walk  in  with 
me  : 
What  ho,  Abigail !  -  open  the  door,  I  say. 

Enter  Abigail. 
Abig.  In  good  time,  father;  here  are  letters  come 
From  Ormus,  and  the  post  stays  here  within. 

1  Heartily. 

-  The  scene  shifts  to  the  front  of  Barabas'  house. 
VOL.  II.  D 


50  The  y ew  of  Malta.  [acth. 

Bar.  Give  me  the  letters. — Daughter,  do  you  hear, 
Entertain  Lodowick  the  Governor's  son 
With  all  the  courtesy  you  can  afford  ; 
Provided  that  you  keep  your  maidenhead.  230 

Use  him  as  if  he  were  a  Philistine, 
Dissemble,  swear,  protest,  vow  love  ^  to  him, 
He  is  not  of  the  seed  of  Abraham,  [Aside. 

I  am  a  little  busy,  sir,  pray  pardon  me. 
Abigail,  bid  him  welcome  for  my  sake. 

Ah'g.  For  your  sake  and  his  own  he's  welcome  hither. 

Bar.  Daughter,  a  word  more ;  kiss  him,  speak  him 
fair, 
And  like  a  cunning  Jew  so  cast  about. 
That  ye  be  both  made  sure  -  ere  you  come  out.     [Aside. 

Abig.  O  father  !  Don  Mathias  is  my  love.  240 

Bar.  I  know  it :  yet  I  say,  make  love  to  him ; 
Do,  it  is  requisite  it  should  be  so — 
Nay,  on  my  Ufe,  it  is  my  factor's  hand — 
But  go  you  in,  I'll  think  upon  the  account. 

[Exeunt  Abigail  and  Lodowick. 
The  account  is  made,  for  Lodowick  [he  ^]  dies. 
My  factor  sends  me  word  a  merchant's  fled 
That  owes  me  for  a  hundred  tun  of  wine  : 
I  weigh  it   thus  much  [snappifig  his  fingers^  ;  I  have 
wealth  enough. 


^  Dyce's  correction  for  the  old  copy's  "  vow  to  love  him." 

2  Afifianced.     "  Accordailles,  the  betrothing  or  making  sure  of  a  man 

and  woman  together," — Cotgrave. 
2  The  word  "  he  "  was  inserted  by  Cunningham  for  the  sake  of  the 

metre. 


SCENE  III.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  51 

For  now  by  this  has  he  kissed  Abigail ; 

And  she  vows  love  to  him,  and  he  to  her.  250 

As  sure  as  heaven  rained  manna  for  the  Jews, 

So  sure  shall  he  and  Don  Mathias  die  : 

His  father  was  my  chiefest  enemy. 

Enter  Mathias. 

Whither  goes  Don  Mathias  ?  stay  awhile. 

Math.  Whither,  but  to  my  fair  love  Abigail  ? 

Bar.  Thou  know'st,  and  Heaven  can  witness  this  is 
true, 
That  I  intend  my  daughter  shall  be  thine. 

Math.  Ay,  Barabas,  or  else  thou  wrong'st  me  much. 

Bar.  O,  Heaven  forbid  I  should  have  such  a  thought. 
Pardon  me  though  I  weep  :  the  Governor's  son  260 

Will,  whether  I  will  or  no,  have  Abigail : 
He  sends  her  letters,  bracelets,  jewels,  rings. 

Math.  Does  she  receive  them  ? 

Bar.  She?     No,  Mathias,  no,  but  sends  them  back, 
And  when  he  comes,  she  locks  herself  up  fast ; 
Yet  through  the  keyhole  will  he  talk  to  her, 
While  she  runs  to  the  window  looking  out. 
When  you  should  come  and  hale  him  from  the  door. 

Math.  O  treacherous  Lodowick  ! 

Bar.  Even  now  as  I  came  home,  he  slipt  me  in,     270 
And  I  am  sure  he  is  with  Abigail. 

Math.  I'll  rouse  him  thence. 

Bar.   Not  for  all  Malta,  therefore  sheathe  your  sword  ; 
If  you  love  me,  no  quarrels  in  my  house ; 
But  steal  you  in,  and  seem  to  see  him  not ; 


52  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  ii. 

I'll  give  him  such  a  warning  ere  he  goes 
As  he  shall  have  small  hopes  of  Abigail. 
Away,  for  here  they  come. 

Enter  Lodowick  and  Abigail. 

Math.  What,  hand  in  hand  !     I  cannot  suffer  this. 

Bar.  Mathias,  as  thou  lovest  me,  not  a  word.  280 

Math.  Well,  let  it  pass,  another  time  shall  serve. 

\Exit. 

Lod.  Barabas,  is  not  that  the  widow's  son  ? 

Bar.  Ay,  and  take  heed,  for  he  hath  sworn  your  death. 

Lod.  My  death  ?  what,  is  the  base-born  peasant  mad  ? 

Bar.  No,  no,  but  happily  he  stands  in  fear 
Of  that  which  you,  I  think,  ne'er  dream  upon, 
My  daughter  here,  a  paltry  silly  girl. 

Lod.  Why,  loves  she  Don  Mathias? 

Bar.  Doth  she  not  with  her  smiling  answer  you  ? 

Abig.   He  has  my  heart ;  I  smile  against  my  will.    290 

\Aside. 

Lod.  Barabas,  thou  know'st  I've  loved  thy  daughter  long. 

Bar.  And  so  has  she  done  you,  even  from  a  child. 

Lod.  And  now  I  can  no  longer  hold  my  mind. 

Bar.  Nor  I  the  affection  that  I  bear  to  you. 

Lod.  This  is  thy  diamond,  tell  me  shall  I  have  it  ? 

Bar.  Win  it,  and  wear  it,  it  is  yet  unsoiled. 
O  !  but  I  know  your  lordship  would  disdain 
To  marry  with  the  daughter  of  a  Jew ; 
And  yet  I'll  give  her  many  a  golden  cross  ^ 
With  Christian  posies  round  about  the  ring.  300 

1  A  piece  of  money  marked  on  one  side  with  a  cross. 


SCENE  III.]  The  y ew  of  Malta.  53 

Lod.  'Tis  not  thy  wealth,  but  her  that  I  esteem. 
Yet  crave  I  thy  consent. 

Bar.  And  mine  you  have,  yet  let  me  talk  to  her, — 
This  offspring  of  Cain,  this  Jebusite, 
That  never  tasted  of  the  Passover, 
Nor  e'er  shall  see  the  land  of  Canaan, 
Nor  our  Messias  that  is  yet  to  come ; 
This  gentle  maggot,  Lodowick,  I  mean, 
Must  be  deluded  :  let  him  have  thy  hand. 
But  keep  thy  heart  till  Don  Mathias  comes.     \Aside.  310 

Abig.  What,  shall  I  be  betrothed  to  Lodowick  ? 

Bar.   It's  no  sin  to  deceive  a  Christian  ; 
For  they  themselves  hold  it  a  principle. 
Faith  is  not  to  be  held  with  heretics ; 
But  all  are  heretics  that  are  not  Jews ; 
This  follows  well,  and  therefore,  daughter,  fear  not. 

\_Aside. 
I  have  entreated  her,  and  she  will  grant. 

Lod.  Then,  gentle  Abigail,  plight  thy  faith  to  me. 

Abig.  I  cannot  choose,  seeing  my  father  bids. — 
Nothing  but  death  shall  part  my  love  and  me.  \Aside.  320 

Lod.  Now  have  I  that  for  which  my  soul  hath  longed. 

Bar,  So  have  not  I,  but  yet  I  hope  I  shall.        \Aside. 

Abig.  O  wretched  Abigail,  what  hast  thou  ^  done  ? 

\Aside. 

Lod.  Why  on  the  sudden  is  your  colour  changed  ? 

Abig.  I  know  not,  but  farewell,  I  must  be  gone. 

Bar,  Stay  her,  but  let  her  not  speak  one  word  more. 

1  Old  ed.  "  thee," 


54  The  yew  of  Malta.  [act  ii. 

Lod.  Mute  o'  the  sudden  !  here's  a  sudden  change. 

Bar.  O,  muse  not  at  it,  'tis  the  Hebrews'  guise, 
That  maidens  new  betrothed  should  weep  awhile  : 
Trouble  her  not ;  sweet  Lodowick,  depart :  330 

She  is  thy  wife,  and  thou  shalt  be  mine  heir. 

Lod.  O,  is't  the  custom  ?  then  I  am  resolved  : 
But  rather  let  the  brightsome  heavens  be  dim, 
And  nature's  beauty  choke  with  stifling  clouds, 
Than  my  fair  Abigail  should  frown  on  me. — 
There  comes  the  villain,  now  I'll  be  revenged. 

Enter  Mathias. 

Bar.  Be  quiet,  Lodowick,  it  is  enough 
That  I  have  made  thee  sure  to  Abigail. 

Lod.  Well,  let  him  go.  \Exit. 

Bar.  Well,  but  for  me,  as  you  went  in  at  doors        340 
You  had  been  stabbed,  but  not  a  word  on't  now ; 
Here  must  no  speeches  pass,  nor  swords  be  drawn. 

Math.  Suffer  me,  Barabas,  but  to  follow  him. 

Bar.  No ;  so  shall  I,  if  any  hurt  be  done. 
Be  made  an  accessary  of  your  deeds ; 
Revenge  it  on  him  when  you  meet  him  next. 

Math.  For  this  I'll  have  his  heart. 

Bar.  Do  so  ;  lo  here  I  give  thee  Abigail. 

Math.  What  greater  gift  can  poor  Mathias  have  ? 
Shall  Lodowick  rob  me  of  so  fair  a  love  ?  350 

My  life  is  not  so  dear  as  Abigail. 

Bar.  My  heart  misgives  me,  that,  to  cross  your  love, 
He's  with  your  mother ;  therefore  after  him. 

Math.  What,  is  he  gone  unto  my  mother  ? 


SCENE  III.]  The  yew  of  Malta.  55 

Bar.  Nay,  if  you  will,  stay  till  she  comes  herself. 

Math.  I  cannot  stay ;  for  if  my  mother  come, 
She'll  die  with  grief.  \_Exit. 

Abig.   I  cannot  take  my  leave  of  him  for  tears  : 
Father,  why  have  you  thus  incensed  them  both  ? 

Bar.  What's  that  to  thee  ?  360 

Abig.  I'll  make  'em  friends  again. 

Bar.  You'll  make  'em  friends  ! 
Are  there  not  Jews  enow  in  Malta, 
But  thou  must  doat  upon  a  Christian  ? 

Abig.  I  will  have  Don  Mathias,  he  is  my  love. 

Bar.  Yes,  you  shall  have  him  :  go  put  her  in. 

Jtha.  Ay,  I'll  put  her  in.  \Puts  her  in. 

Bar.  Now   tell   me,    Ithamore,    how   lik'st   thou 
this? 

Jtha.  Faith,  master,  I  think  by  this 
You  purchase  both  their  lives ;  is  it  not  so  ? 

Bar.  True ;  and  it  shall  be  cunningly  performed.    370 

Itha.  O  master,  that  I  might  have  a  hand  in  this. 

Bar.  Ay,  so  thou  shalt,  'tis  thou  must  do  the  deed : 
Take  this,  and  bear  it  to  Mathias  straight, 

\Gives  a  letter. 
And  tell  him  that  it  comes  from  Lodowick. 

Itha.  'Tis  poisoned,  is  it  not  ? 

Bar.  No,  no,  and  yet  it  might  be  done  that  way : 
It  is  a  challenge  feigned  from  Lodowick. 

Itha.  Fear  not ;  I  will  so  set  his  heart  afire, 
That  he  shall  verily  think  it  comes  from  him. 

Bar.  I  cannot  choose  but  like  thy  readiness  :  380 

Yet  be  not  rash,  but  do  it  cunningly. 


5  6  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  h. 

Itha.  As  I  behave  myself  in  this,  employ  me  here- 
after. 

Bar.  Away  then.  \Exit. 

So,  now  will  I  go  in  to  Lodowick, 
And,  like  a  cunning  spirit,  feign  some  lie, 
Till  I  have  set  'em  both  at  enmity.  \Exit. 


(    57    ) 


ACT  THE  THIRD. 

SCENE  I. 

Enter  ^  Bellamira,  a  courtesan. 

Bell.  Since  this  town  was  besieged,  my  gain  grows 
cold : 
The  time  has  been  that,  but  for  one  bare  night, 
A  hundred  ducats  have  been  freely  given  : 
But  now  against  my  will  I  must  be  chaste ; 
And  yet  I  know  my  beauty  doth  not  fail. 
From  Venice  merchants,  and  from  Padua 
Were  wont  to  come  rare-witted  gentlemen, 
Scholars  I  mean,  learned  and  liberal ; 
And  now,  save  Pilia-Borsa,  comes  there  none. 
And  he  is  very  seldom  from  my  house  ;  lo 

And  here  he  comes. 

Enter  Pilia-Borsa. 

Pilia.  Hold  thee,  wench,  there's  something  for  thee 
to  spend. 

1  Bellamira  displays  herself  on  a  balcony.     Cf.  a  stage-direction  in 
Brome's  Covent  Garden    Weeded: — "  Enter  Dorcas  above  on  a  Bell- 
onie.     Gabriel  gazes  at  her.     Dorcas  is  habited  hke  a  curtizan  of 
Venice." 


58  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [acthi. 

Bell.  'Tis  silver.     I  disdain  it. 

Pilia.  Ay,  but  the  Jew  has  gold, 
And  I  will  have  it,  or  it  shall  go  hard. 

Court.  Tell  me,  how  cam'st  thou  by  this  ? 

Pilia.  'Faith,  walking  the  back-lanes,  through  the 
gardens,  I  chanced  to  cast  mine  eye  up  to  the  Jew's 
counting-house,  where  I  saw  some  bags  of  money,  and  in 
the  night  I  clambered  up  with  my  hooks,  and,  as  I  was 
taking  my  choice,  I  heard  a  rumbling  in  the  house  3  so  I 
took  only  this,  and  run  my  way :  but  here's  the  Jew's 
man.  24 

Bell.  Hide  the  bag. 

Enter  Ithamore. 

Pilia.  Look  not  towards  him,  let's  away  :  zoon's,  what 
a  looking  thou  keep'st ;  thou'lt  betray  's  anon. 

[Exeunt  Courtesan  and  Pilia-Borsa. 

Itlm.  O  the  sweetest  face  that  ever  I  beheld !  I  know 
she  is  a  courtesan  by  her  attire :  now  would  I  give  a 
hundred  of  the  Jew's  crowns  that  I  had  such  a  concubine. 
Well,  31 

I  have  delivered  the  challenge  in  such  sort, 
As  meet  they  will,  and  fighting  die ;  brave  sport.    [Exit. 

SCENE  11. 

Enter  Mathias.^ 

Math.  This  is  the  place,  now  Abigail  shall  see 
Whether  Mathias  holds  her  dear  or  no. 

1  Scene  :  a  street. 


SCENE  II.]  The  Jezv  of  Malta.  59 

Enter  Lodowick.^ 
What,  dares  the  villain  write  in  such  base  terms  ? 

\_Reading  a  letter. 
Lod.  I  did  it ;  and  revenge  it  if  thou  dar'st. 

{They  fight. 
Enter  Bar  abas,  above. '^ 

Bar.  O  !    bravely  fought ;   and  yet    they  thrust  not 
home. 

Now,  Lodowick  !  now,  Mathias  !  So {Both  fall. 

So  now  they  have  showed  themselves  to  be  tall  ^  fellows. 
{Cries  within^  Part  'em,  part  'em. 
Bar,  Ay,  part  'em  now  they  are  dead.    Farewell,  fare- 
well. {Exit. 

Enter  Governor  and  Mathias's  Mother. 
GoiK  What  sight  is  this? — my  Lodowick*  slain  !       10 
These  arms  of  mine  shall  be  thy  sepulchre.^ 
Mother.  Who  is  this  ?  my  son  Mathias  slain  ! 
Gov.  O   Lodowick !  had'st  thou  perished  by  the 
Turk, 
Wretched  Ferneze  might  have  'venged  thy  death. 

1  Old  ed.— 

' '  Enter  Lodow.  reading. 

"Math.  What  dares  the  villain,"  &c.  The  challenge  was  "  feign'd 
from  Lodowick." 

"  On  the  upper-stage,  a  raised  platform. 

3  Bold, 

4  Here  and  elsewhere,  for  the  sake  of  the  metre,  Dyce  prints  "  Lodo- 
vico."  Perhaps  he  is  right,  for  the  name  may  have  been  contracted  into 
"  Lod."  or  "  Lodo."  in  the  MS.  from  which  the  play  was  printed. 

*  Dyce  compares  3  Henry  VI.,  ii.  5  : — 

"  These  arms  of  mine  shall  be  thy  winding-sheet  ; 
My  heart,  sweet  boy,  shall  be  thy  sepulchre  " — 
lines  not  found  in  the  True  Traaedie. 


6o  The  yew  of  Malta.  [act  m. 

Mother.  Thy  son  slew    mine,    and    I'll    revenge    his 
death. 

Gov.  Look,  Katherine,  look  !  —  thy  son  gave  mine 
these  wounds. 

MotJier.  O  leave  to  grieve  me,  I  am  grieved  enough. 

Gov.  O  !  that  my  sighs  could  turn  to  lively  breath  ; 
And  these  my  tears  to  blood,  that  he  might  live. 

Mother.  Who  made  them  enemies  ?  20 

Gov.  I  know  not,  and  that  grieves  me  most  of  all. 

Mother.  My  son  loved  thine. 

Gov.  And  so  did  Lodowick  him. 

Mother.  Lend  me  that  weapon  that  did  kill  my  son, 
And  it  shall  murder  me. 

Gov.  Nay,  madam,  stay ;  that  weapon  was  my  son's, 
And  on  that  rather  should  Ferneze  die. 

MotJier.  Hold,  let's  inquire  the  causers  of  their  deaths, 
That  we  may  'venge  their  blood  upon  their  heads. 

Gov.  Then  take  them  up,  and  let  them  be  interred 
Within  one  sacred  monument  of  stone  3  30 

Upon  which  altar  ^  I  will  offer  up 
My  daily  sacrifice  of  sighs  and  tears, 
And  with  my  prayers  pierce  impartial  -  heavens, 

1  Cf.  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  iii.  2  : — 

' '  Say  that  upon  the  aUar  of  her  beauty 
You  sacrifice  your  tears." 

2  "Impartial"    is  occasionally  used  by  old   writers  in  the  sense  of 
"unkindly."     Cf.  Prologue  to  Peele's  Arraignynent  of  Paris  : — 

"  Th'  impartial  daughters  of  Necessity 
Bin  aiders  in  her  suit." 
So  in  William  Smith's  Chloris  (Sonnet  11) : 

"  No,  it  was  not  Nature's  ornament 
But  winged  love's  unpartial  cruel  wound." 


SCENE  III.]  The  Jeiv  of  Malta.  6 1 

Till  they  [reveal]  the  causers  of  our  smarts, 
Which  forced  their  hands  divide  united  hearts  : 
Come,  Katherine,  our  losses  equal  are, 
Then  of  true  grief  let  us  take  equal  share. 

\_Exeufit  with  the  bodies. 

SCENE  III. 

Enter  Ithamore.^ 

Itha.  Why,  was  there  ever  seen  such  villainy, 
So  neatly  plotted,  and  so  well  performed  ? 
Both  held  in  hand,-  and  flatly  both  beguiled  ? 

Enter  Abigail. 

Abig.  Why,  how  now,  Ithamore,  why  laugh'st  thou  so  ? 

Itha.  O  mistress,  ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Abig.  Why,  what  ail'st  thou  ? 

Itha.  O  my  master  ! 

Abig  Ha! 

Itha.  O  mistress !  I  have  the  bravest,  gravest,  secret, 
subtle,  bottle-nosed  knave  to  my  master,  that  ever  gentle- 
man had.  n 

Abig.  Say,  knave,  why  rail'st  upon  my  father  thus  ? 

Itha.  O,  my  master  has  the  bravest  policy. 

Abig.  Wherein  ? 

Itha.  Why,  know  you  not  ? 

Abig.  Why,  no. 

Itha.  Know  you  not  of  Mathia[s']  and  Don  Lodo- 
wick['s]  disaster? 

1  Scene  :  a  room  in  Barabas'  house. 

•  "  Kept  in  expectation,  having  their  hopes  flattered."— Z?/^^. 


62  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [actih. 

Abig.  No,  what  was  it  ? 

Itha.  Why,  the  devil  invented  a  challenge,  my  master 
writ  it,  and  I  carried  it,  first  to  Lodowick,  and  imprimis 
to  Mathia[s].  22 

And  then  they  met,  [and,]  as  the  story  says, 
In  doleful  wise  they  ended  both  their  days. 

Abig.  And  was  my  father  furtherer  of  their  deaths  ? 

Itha.  Am  I  Ithamore  ? 

Abig.  Yes. 

Itha.  So  sure  did  your  father  write,  and  I  carry  the 
challenge. 

Abig.  Well,  Ithamore,  let  me  request  thee  this,         30 
Go  to  the  new-made  nunnery,  and  inquire 
For  any  of  the  Friars  of  St.  Jaques,^ 
And  say,  I  pray  them  come  and  speak  with  me. 

Itha.  I  pray,  mistress,  will  you  answer  me  but  one 
question  ? 

Abig.  Well,  sirrah,  what  is't  ? 

Itha.  A  very  feeling  one ;  have  not  the  nuns  fine  sport 
with  the  friars  now  and  then  ? 

Abig.  Go  to,  sirrah  sauce,  is  this  your  question?  get 
ye  gone.  40 

Itha.   I  will,  forsooth,  mistress.  [Exit. 

Abig.   Hard-hearted  father,  unkind  Barabas  ! 
Was  this  the  pursuit  of  thy  policy  ! 
To  make  me  show  them  favour  severally, 
That  by  my  favour  they  should  both  be  slain  ? 
Admit  thou  lov'dst  not  Lodowick  for  his  sire,^ 

1  Old  ed.  "  laynes." 

2  Dyce's  correction  ;  old  ed.  "sinne," 


SCENE  in.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  6 


o 


Yet  Don  Mathias  ne'er  offended  thee : 

But  thou  wert  set  upon  extreme  revenge, 

Because  the  Prior  ^  dispossessed  thee  once, 

And  could'st  not  Venge  it,  but  upon  his  son  ;  50 

Nor  on  his  son,  but  by  Mathias'  means ; 

Nor  on  Mathias,  but  by  murdering  me. 

But  I  perceive  there  is  no  love  on  earth,    . 

Pity  in  Jews,  or  piety  in  Turks. 

But  here  comes  cursed  Ithamore,  with  the  friar. 

Enter  Ithamore  ajid  Friar  Jacomo. 

F.  Jac.    Virgo,  salve. 

Itha.  When  !  duck  you  !  - 

Abig.  Welcome,  grave  friar;  Ithamore,  begone. 

{Exit  Ithamore. 
Know,  holy  sir,  I  am  bold  to  solicit  thee. 

F.  Jac.  Wherein  ?  60 

Abig.  To  get  me  be  admitted  for  a  nun. 

F.  Jac.  Why,  Abigail,  it  is  not  yet  long  since 
That  I  did  labour  thy  admission. 
And  then  thou  did'st  not  like  that  holy  life. 

Abig.  Then  were  my  thoughts  so  frail  and  unconfirmed, 
And  I  was  chained  to  follies  of  the  world  : 
But  now  experience,  purchased  with  grief. 
Has  made  me  see  the  difference  of  things. 
My  sinful  soul,  alas,  hath  paced  too  long 

1  So  the  old  ed.  Cunningham  boldly  reads  "Governor,"  which  is 
certainly  the  word  we  should  have  expected. 

2  Dyce  and  the  other  editors  give  "When  duck  you?"  I  take 
"when"  to  be  an  abrupt  exclamation  denoting  impatience,  in  which 
sense  the  word  is  often  found  (see  Dyce's  Shakespeare  Glossary). 


64  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  m. 

The  fatal  labyrinth  of  misbelief,  70 

Far  from  the  sun  that  gives  eternal  life. 

F.  Jac.  Who  taught  thee  this  ? 

Abig.  The  abbess  of  the  house, 
Whose  zealous  admonition  I  embrace  : 
O,  therefore,  Jacomo,  let  me  be  one, 
Although  unworthy,  of  that  sisterhood. 

K  Jac.  Abigail,  I  will,  but  see  thou  change  no  more, 
For  that  will  be  most  heavy  to  thy  soul. 

Abig.  That  was  my  father's  fault. 

F./ac.  Thy  father's  !  how? 

Abig.   Nay,  you  shall  pardon  me. — O  Barabas, 
Though  thou  deservest  hardly  at  my  hands,  80 

Yet  never  shall  these  lips  bewray  thy  life.  \Aside. 

F.  Jac.  Come,  shall  we  go  ? 

Abig.  My  duty  waits  on  you.  \_Exeu?ii. 


SCENE  IV. 
Enter  ^  Barabas,  reading  a  letter. 

Bar.  What,  Abigail  become  a  nun  again  ! 
False  and  unkind ;  what,  hast  thou  lost  thy  father? 
And  all  unknown,  and  unconstrained  of  me, 
Art  thou  again  got  to  the  nunnery? 
Now  here  she  writes,  and  wills  me  to  repent. 
Repentance  !  Spiirca  !  what  pretendeth  -  this  ? 

1  Scene :  a  room  in  Barabas'  house. 

2  I.e.,  portendeth. 


SCENE  IV.]  The  y ew  of  Malta.  65 

I  fear  she  knows — lis  so — of  my  device 

In  Don  Mathias'  and  Lodovico's  deaths : 

If  so,  'tis  time  that  it  be  seen  into  : 

For  she  that  varies  from  me  in  belief  10 

Gives  great  presumption  tliat  she  loves  me  not ; 

Or  loving,  doth  dislike  of  something  done. — 

But  who  comes  here  ? 

E7iter  Ithamore. 

O  Ithamore,  come  near  ; 
Come  near,  my  love  ;  come  near,  thy  master's  life, 
My  trusty  servant,  nay,  my  second  self :  ^ 
For  I  have  now  no  hope  but  even  in  thee. 
And  on  that  hope  my  happiness  is  built. 
When  saw'st  thou  Abigail  ? 

Itha.  To-day. 

Bar.  With  whom  ? 

Itha.   A  friar. 

Bar.  A  friar  !  false  villain,  he  hath  done  the  deed.    20 

Itha.  How,  sir? 

Bar.  Why,  made  mine  Abigail  a  nun. 

Itha.  That's  no  lie,  for  she  sent  me  for  him. 

Bar.  O  unhappy  day  ! 
False,  credulous,  inconstant  Abigail ! 
But  let  'em  go  :  and,  Ithamore,  from  hence 
Ne'er  shall  she  grieve  me  more  with  her  disgrace  ; 
Ne'er  shall  she  live  to  inherit  aught  of  mine, 
Be  blest  of  me,  nor  come  within  my  gates, 

1  Olded.  "life." 
VOL.  11.  E 


The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  m. 

But  perish  underneath  my  bitter  curse, 

Like  Cain  by  Adam  for  his  brother's  death.  30 

Itha.  O  master ! 

Bar.  Ithamore,  entreat  not  for  her,  I  am  moved. 
And  she  is  hateful  to  my  soul  and  me  : 
And  'less  ^  thou  yield  to  this  that  I  entreat, 
I  cannot  think  but  that  thou  hat'st  my  life. 

Itha.  Who,  I,  master  ?     Why,  I'll  run  to  some  rock, 
And  throw  myself  headlong  into  the  sea ; 
Why,  I'll  do  anything  for  your  sweet  sake. 

Bar.  O  trusty  Ithamore,  no  servant,  but  my  friend  : 
I  here  adopt  thee  for  mine  only  heir,  40 

All  that  I  have  is  thine  when  I  am  dead. 
And  whilst  I  live  use  half;  spend  as  myself; 
Here  take  my  keys,  I'll  give  'em  thee  anon  : 
Go  buy  thee  garments  :  but  thou  shall  not  want : 
Only  know  this,  that  thus  thou  art  to  do  : 
But  first  go  fetch  me  in  the  pot  of  rice 
That  for  our  supper  stands  upon  the  fire. 

Jtha.  I  hold  my  head  my  masters  hungry.     I  go,  sir. 

\Exit. 

Bar.  Thus,  fiveryyillain.  ambles  after  wealth. 
Although  he  ne'er  be  richer  than  in  hope  :  50 

But,  husht  J 

Enter  Ithamore  with  the  pot. 

Jtha.  Here  'tis,  master. 

Bar.  Well  said,  Ithamore ;  what,  hast  thou  brought 
The  ladle  with  thee  too  ? 

1  Olded.  "least." 


SCENE  IV.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  \       67 

Itha.  Yes,  sir,  the  proverb  says  he  that  eats  with  the 
devil  had  need  of  a  long  spoon. ^  I  have  brought  you  a 
ladle. 

Bar.  Very  well,  Ithamore,  then  now  be  secret  \ 
And  for  thy  sake,  whom  I  so  dearly  love, 
Now  shalt  thou  see  the  death  of  Abigail,  60 

That  thou  may'st  freely  live  to  be  my  heir. 

Itha.  Why,  master,  will  you  poison  her  with  a  mess  of 
rice  porridge  ?  that  will  preserve  life,  make  her  round  and 
plump,  and  batten  more  than  you  are  aware. 

Bar.  Ay,  but,  Ithamore,  seest  thou  this  ? 
It  is  a  precious  powder  that  I  bought 
Of  an  Italian,  in  Ancona,  once. 
Whose  operation  is  to  bind,  infect, 
And  poison  deeply,  yet  not  appear 
In  forty  hours  after  it  is  ta'en.  70 

Itha.  How,  master  ? 

Bar.  Thus,  Ithamore. 
This  even  they  use  in  Malta  here, — 'tis  called 
Saint  Jacques'  Even, — and  then  I  say  they  use 
To  send  their  alms  unto  the  nunneries  : 
Among  the  rest  bear  this,  and  set  it  there  ; 
There's  a  dark  entry  where  they  take  it  in, 
Where  they  must  neither  see  the  messenger, 
Nor  make  inquiry  who  hath  sent  it  them. 

Itha.  How  so  ?  80 

Bar.  Belike  there  is  some  ceremony  in't. 


1  A  very  old  proverb  ;  it  is  found  in  Chaucer's  Squieres  Tale,  John 
Heywood's  Froverbs,  Comedy  of  Errors,  &c. 


68  The  yew  of  Malta.  [act  m. 

There,  Ithamore,  must  thou  go  place  this  pot !  ^ 
Stay,  let  me  spice  it  first. 

Itha.  Pray  do,  and  let  me  help  you,  master.     Pray  let 
me  taste  first. 

Bar.  Prythee  do  :  what  say'st  thou  now  ? 

Itha.  Troth,  master,  I'm  loth  such  a  pot  of  pottage 
should  be  spoiled. 

Bar.   Peace,  Ithamore,  'tis  better  so  than  spared. 
Assure  thyself  thou  shalt  have  broth  by  the  eye,^  90 

My  purse,  my  coffer,  and  myself  is  thine. 

Itha.  Well,  master,  I  go. 

Bar.  Stay,  first  let  me  stir  it,  Ithamore. 
As  fatal  be  it  to  her  as  the  draught 
Of  which  great  Alexander  drunk  and  died  : 
And  with  her  let  it  work  like  Borgia's  wine, 
Whereof  his  sire,  the  Pope,  was  poisoned. 
In  few,^  the  blood  of  Hydra,  Lerna's  bane  : 
The  juice  of  hebon,'*  and  Cocytus'  breath, 
And  all  the  poisons  of  the  Stygian  pool  100 

Break  from  the  fiery  kingdom  ;  and  in  this 
Vomit  your  venom  and  invenom  her 
That  like  a  fiend  hath  left  her  father  thus. 


1  Old  ed.  "plot." 

2  I.e. ,  in  abundance.  Dyce  compares  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Knight 
of  the  Burning  Pestle,  ii.  2  : — "  Here's  money  and  gold  by  ih"  eye,  my 
boy." 

3  Briefly. 

4  The  juice  of  ebony  (variously  written  "  hebon  "  or  "  hebenon")  was 
thought  to  be  a  strong  poison.     Cf.  Hamlet.,  i.  5  : — 

"  Upon  my  secure  hour  thy  uncle  stole 
With  juice  of  cursed  hebenon  in  a  vial." 


SCENE  v.]  The  Jew  of  Alalia,  69 

Jt/ia.  What  a  blessing  has  he  given't !  was  ever  pot  of 
rice  porridge  so  sauced  !     What  shall  I  do  with  it  ? 

Bar.   O,  my  sweet  Ithamore,  go  set  it  down, 
And  come  again  so  soon  as  thou  hast  done, 
For  I  have  other  business  for  thee. 

It/ia.  Here's  a  drench  to  poison   a  whole  stable  of 
Flanders  mares  :  I'll  carry  't  to  the  nuns  with  a  powder. 

Bar.  And  the  horse  pestilence  to  boot;  away  !       m 

Itha.  I  am  gone. 
Pay  me  my  wages,  for  my  work  is  done.  \^Exif. 

Bar.  I'll  pay  thee  with  a  vengeance,  Ithamore.  [Exit. 


SCENE  V. 

Efiter^  Governor,  Del  Bosco,  Knights,  Basso. 

Gov.  Welcome,  great  Basso  ;  -  how  fares  Calymath, 
What  wind  thus  drives  you  into  Malta  Road? 

Bas.  The  wind  that  bloweth  all  the  world  besides, 
Desire  of  gold. 

Gov.   Desire  of  gold,  great  sir  ? 
That's  to  be  gotten  in  the  Western  Ind : 
In  Malta  are  no  golden  minerals. 

Bas.  To  you  of  Malta  thus  saith  Calymath  : 
The  time  you  took  for  respite  is  at  hand, 
For  the  performance  of  your  promise  passed. 
And  for  the  tribute-money  I  am  sent.  10 

1  Scene  :  the  Senate-house. 

-  Old  ed.  "Bashaws."     (I  have  kept  the  spelling  "  Basso  "  through- 
out) 


7o  The  yew  of  Malta.  [act  m. 

Gov.  Basso,  in  brief,  'shalt  have  no  tribute  here, 
Nor  shall  the  heathens  live  upon  our  spoil : 
First  will  we  raze  the  city  walls  ourselves, 
Lay  waste  the  island,  hew  the  temples  down, 
And,  shipping  off  our  goods  to  Sicily, 
Open  an  entrance  for  the  wasteful  sea. 
Whose  billows  beating  the  resistless  banks, 
Shall  overflow  it  with  their  refluence. 

Bas.  Well,  Governor,  since  thou  hast  broke  the  league 
By  flat  denial  of  the  promised  tribute,  20 

Talk  not  of  razing  down  your  city  walls, 
You  shall  not  need  trouble  yourselves  so  far, 
For  Selim  Calymath  shall  come  himself, 
And  with  brass  bullets  batter  down  your  towers. 
And  turn  proud  Malta  to  a  wilderness 
For  these  intolerable  wrongs  of  yours ; 
And  so  farewell. 

Gov.  Farewell : 
And  now,  ye  men  of  Malta,  look  about, 
And  let's  provide  to  welcome  Calymath  :  30 

Close  your  portcullis,  charge  your  basiHsks, 
And  as  you  profitably  take  up  arms, 
So  now  courageously  encounter  them  ; 
For  by  this  answer,  broken  is  the  league, 
And  naught  is  to  be  looked  for  now  but  wars. 
And  naught  to  us  more  welcome  is  than  wars. 

\Exeunt. 


SCENE  VI.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  7 1 

SCENE  VI. 
Enter^  Friar  Jacomo  and  Friar  Barnardine. 

F.Jac.  O  brother,  brother,  all  the  nuns  are  sick, 
And  physic  will  not  help  them  :  they  must  die. 

F.  Bam.  The  abbess  sent  for  me  to  be  confessed  : 
O,  what  a  sad  confession  will  there  be  ! 

F.  Jac.  And  so  did  fair  Maria  send  for  me  : 
I'll  to  her  lodging  :  hereabouts  she  lies.  \Exit. 

Enter  Abigail. 

F.  Barn.  What,  all  dead,  save  only  Abigail  ? 

Abig.  And  I  shall  die  too,  for  I  feel  death  coming. 
Where  is  the  friar  that  conversed  with  me  ? 

F.  Barn.  O,  he  is  gone  to  see  the  other  nuns.  10 

Abig.  I  sent  for  him,  but  seeing  you  are  come, 
Be  you  my  ghostly  father  :  and  first  know, 
That  in  this  house  I  lived  religiously, 
Chaste,  and  devout,  much  sorrowing  for  my  sins ; 
But  ere  I  came 

F.  Barn.  What  then  ? 

Abig.  I  did  offend  high  Heaven  so  grievously. 
As  I  am  almost  desperate  for  my  sins  : 
And  one  offence  torments  me  more  than  all. 
You  knew  Mathias  and  Don  Lodowick  ?  20 

F.  Barn.  Yes,  what  of  them  ? 

Abig.  My  father  did  contract  me  to  'em  both : 

1  Scene :  a  room  in  the  convent. — The  stage  direction  in  the  4to.  is 
"  Enter  two  Friars  and  Abigail." 


72  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [actih. 

First  to  Don  Lodowick  ;  him  I  never  loved ; 
Mathias  was  the  man  that  I  held  dear, 
And  for  his  sake  did  I  become  a  nun. 

F.  Barn.  So,  say  how  was  their  end  ? 

Abig.  Both  jealous  of  my  love,  envied  each  other, 
And  by  my  father's  practice,  which  is  there 

\Gives  a  paper. 
Set  down  at  large,  the  gallants  were  both  slain. 

F.  Barn.  O  monstrous  villainy  !  30 

Abig.  To  work  my  peace,  this  I  confess  to  thee ; 
Reveal  it  not,  for  then  my  father  dies. 

F.  Barn.  Know  that  confession  must  not  be  revealed. 
The  canon  law  forbids  it,  and  the  priest 
That  makes  it  known,  being  degraded  first. 
Shall  be  condemned,  and  then  sent  to  the  fire. 

Abig.  So  I  have  heard  ;  pray,  therefore  keep  it  close. 
Death  seizeth  on  my  heart :  ah  gentle  friar, 
Convert  my  father  that  he  may  be  saved, 
And  witness  that  I  die  a  Christian.  \pies.    40 

F.  Barn.  Ay,   and    a   virgin   too ;    that   grieves   me 
most : 
But  I  must  to  the  Jew  and  exclaim  on  him, 
And  make  him  stand  in  fear  of  me. 

Ejiter  Friar  Jacomo, 

F.  Jac.  O  brother,  all  the  nuns  are  dead,  let's  bury 

them. 
F.  Barn.  First  help  to  bury  this,  then  go  with  me 
And  help  me  to  exclaim  against  the  Jew. 
F.  Jac.  Why,  what  has  he  done  ? 


SCENE  VI.]          The  y ew  of  Malta.  73 

F.  Barii.  A  thing  that  makes  me  tremble  to  unfold. 

F.  Jac.  What,  has  he  crucified  a  child  ? 

F.  Barn.  No,  but  a  worse  thing :  'twas  told  me  in 

shrift,  50 
Thou  know'st  'tis  death  an  if  it  be  revealed. 

Come,  let's  away.  [Exeunt. 


(    74    ) 


ACT  THE  FOURTH. 

SCENE  I. 

Enter  ^  Barabas  and  Ithamore.     Bells  within. 

Bar.  There  is  no  music  to^  a  Christian's  knell : 
How  sweet  the  bells  ring  now  the  nuns  are  dead, 
That  sound  at  other  times  like  tinkers'  pans  ! 
I  was  afraid  the  poison  had  not  wrought ; 
Or,  though  it  wrought,  it  would  have  done  no  good, 
For  every  year  they  swell,  and  yet  they  live ; 
Now  all  are  dead,  not  one  remains  alive. 

Itha.  That's  brave,  master,  but  think  you  it  will  not 
be  known  ? 

Bar.  How  can  it,  if  we  two  be  secret  ? 

Jtha.  For  my  part  fear  you  not.  lo 

Bar.  I'd  cut  thy  throat  if  I  did. 

Itha.  And  reason  too. 
But  here's  a  royal  monastery  hard  by ; 
Good  master,  let  me  poison  all  the  monks. 

Bar.  Thou  shalt  not  need,  for  now  the  nuns  are  dead 
They'll  die  with  grief. 

1  Scene  :  a  street.  ^  /.g,  ^  compared  to. 


SCENE!.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  75 

Itha.  Do  you  not  sorrow  for  your  daughter's  death  ? 

Bar.  No,  but  I  grieve  because  she  lived  so  long. 
An  Hebrew  born,  and  would  become  a  Christian  ! 
Cazzo^  diabolo.  20 

Enter  tlie  two  Friars. 

Itha.  Look,   look,  master,  here  come  two   religious 
caterpillars. 

Bar.  I  smelt  'em  ere  they  came. 

Itha.  God-a-mercy,  nose  !  come,  let's  begone. 

F.  Barn.  Stay,  wicked  Jew,  repent,  I  say,  and  stay. 

F.  Jac.  Thou  hast  offended,  therefore  must  be  damned. 

Bar.  I  fear  they  know  we  sent  the  poisoned  broth. 

Itha.  And  so  do  I,  master ;  therefore  speak  'em  fair. 

F.  Barn.  Barabas,  thou  hast 

F.  Jac.  Ay,  that  thou  hast 30 

Bar.  True,  I  have  money,  what  though  I  have  ? 

F.  Barn.   Thou  art  a 

F.  Jac.  Ay,  that  thou  art,  a 


Bar.  What  needs  all  this  ?     I  know  I  am  a  Jew. 

F.  Barn.  Thy  daughter 

F.  Jac.  Ay,  thy  daughter 


Bar.  O  speak  not  of  her  !  then  I  die  with  grief. 

F.  Barn.  Remember  that 

F.Jac.  Ay,  remember  that 39 

Far.  I  must  needs  say  that  I  have  been  a  great  usurer. 

F.  Barn.  Thou  hast  committed 

Bar.  Fornication — but  that 

1  A  vulgar  Italian  oath.     (Old  ed.  "  Catho  diabola.") 


76  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [activ. 

Was  in  another  country  :  and  besides,  . 
The  wench  is  dead. 

F.  Barn.  Ay,  but,  Barabas, 
Remember  Mathias  and  Don  Lodowick. 

Bar.  Why,  what  of  them  ? 

F.  Barn.  I  will  not  say  that  by  a  forged  challenge  they 
met. 

Bar.  She  has  confest,  and  we  are  both  undone, 
My  bosom  inmate  !  ^  but  I  must  dissemble. —   \Aside.    50 

0  holy  friars,  the  burthen  of  my  sins 

Lie  heavy  on  my  soul  ;  then  pray  you  tell  me, 
Is't  not  too  late  now  to  turn  Christian  ? 

1  have  been  zealous  in  the  Jewish  faith. 
Hard-hearted  to  the  poor,  a  covetous  wretch, 
That  would  for  lucre's  sake  have  sold  my  soul. 
A  hundred  for  a  hundred  I  have  ta'en ; 

And  now  for  store  of  wealth  may  I  compare 

With  all  the  Jews  in  Malta ;  but  what  is  wealth  ? 

I  am  a  Jew,  and  therefore  am  I  lost.  60 

Would  penance  serve  for  this  my  sin, 

I  could  afford  to  whip  myself  to  death 

Itha.  And  so  could  I ;  but  penance  will  not  serve. 

Bar.  To  fast,  to  pray,  and  wear  a  shirt  of  hair, 
And  on  my  knees  creep  to  Jerusalem. 
Cellars  of  wine,  and  sollers  -  full  of  wheat, 
Warehouses  stuft  with  spices  and  with  drugs, 
Whole  chests  of  gold,  in  bullion,  and  in  coin, 

1  Old  ed.  "inmates." 

2  Upper  rooms  ;  lofts.    The  word  is  still  used  in  some  parts  of  the 
country. 


SCENE  I.]  The  J ezv  of  Malta.        .  77 

Besides  I  know  not  how  much  weight  in  pearl,  ^ 

Orient  and  round,  have  I  within  my  house ;  70 

At  Alexandria,  merchandise  unsold  :  ^ 

But  yesterday  two  ships  went  from  this  town, 

Their  voyage  will  be  worth  ten  thousand  crowns. 

In  Florence,  Venice,  Antwerp,  London,  Seville, 

Frankfort,  Lubeck,  Moscow,  and  where  not, 

Have  I  debts  owing ;  and  in  most  of  these. 

Great  sums  of  money  lying  in  the  banco ; 

All  this  I'll  give  to  some  religious  house 

So  I  may  be  baptized,  and  live  therein. 

F.  Jac.  O  good  Barabas,  come  to  our  house.  80 

F.  Barn.  O  no,  good  Barabas,  come  to  our  house ; 
And,  Barabas,  you  know 

Bar.  I  know  that  I  have  highly  sinned. 
You  shall  convert  me,  you  shall  have  all  my  wealth. 

F.  Jac.  O  Barabas,  their  laws  are  strict. 

Bar.  I  know  they  are,  and  I  will  be  with  you. 

\To  F.  Jac. 

F.  Barn.  Theywearno  shirts,  and  they  go  barefoot  too. 

Bar.  Then  'tis  not  for  me ;  and  I  am  resolved 

[To  F,  Barn. 
You  shall  confess  me,  and  have  all  my  goods. 

F.  Jac.  Good  Barabas,  come  to  me.  90 

Bar.  You  see  I  answer  him,  and  yet  he  stays ; 

\To  F.  Barn. 
Rid  him  away,  and  go  you  home  with  me. 

F.  Jac.  I'll  be  with  you  to-night. 

1  Dyce  reads  ' '  untold." 


The  yew  of  Alalia.  [act  iv. 

Bar.  Come  to  my  house  at  one  o'clock  this  night. 

\To  F.  J  AC. 

F.  Jac.  You  hear  your  answer,  and  you  may  be  gone. 

F.  Barn.  Why,  go  get  you  away. 

F.  Jac.  I  will  not  go  for  thee. 

F.  Barn.  Not !  then  I'll  make  thee  go. 

F.  Jac.  How,  dost  call  me  rogue  ?  \They  fight. 

Itha.  Part  'em,  master,  part  'em.  loo 

Bar.  This  is  mere  frailty,  brethren ;  be  content. 
Friar  Barnardine,  go  you  with  Ithamore  : 
You  ^  know  my  mind,  let  me  alone  with  him. 

[Aside  to  F.  Barn. 

F.  Jac.  Why  does  he  go  to  thy  house  ?  let  him  begone. 

Bar.  I'll  give  him  something  and  so  stop  his  mouth. 
\Exit  Ithamore  with  F.  Barn. 
I  never  heard  of  any  man  but  he 
Maligned  the  order  of  the  Jacobins : 
But  do  you  think  that  I  believe  his  words  ? 
Why,  brother,  you  converted  Abigail ; 
And  I  am  bound  in  charity  to  requite  it,  no 

And  so  I  will.     O  Jacomo,  fail  not,  but  come. 

F.  Jac.  But,  Barabas,  who  shall  be  your  godfathers, 
For  presently  you  shall  be  shrived. 

Bar.  Marry,  the  Turk  ^  shall  be  one  of  my  godfathers, 
But  not  a  word  to  any  of  your  covent.^ 

F.  Jac.  I  warrant  thee,  Barabas.  \Exit. 

Bar.  So,  now  the  fear  is  past,  and  I  am  safe  : 

1  This  line  and  the  next  are  given  to  Ithamore  in  the  old  copy. 

2  Ithamore. 

3  The  old  form  (preserved  in  "Covent  Garden")  of  "convent." 


SCENE  ir.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  79 

For  he  that  shrived  her  is  within  my  house, 

What  if  I  murdered  him  ere  Jacomo  comes  ? 

Now  I  have  such  a  plot  for  both  their  lives  120 

As  never  Jew  nor  Christian  knew  the  like ; 

One  turned  my  daughter,  therefore  he  shall  die; 

The  other  knows  enough  to  have  my  life, 

Therefore  'tis  not  requisite  he  should  live. 

But  are  not  both  these  wise  men  to  suppose 

That  I  will  leave  my  house,  my  goods,  and  all 

To  fast  and  be  well  whipt  ?  I'll  none  of  that. 

Now  Friar  Barnardine  I  come  to  you, 

I'll  feast  you,  lodge  you,  give  you  fair  words, 

And  after  that,  I  and  my  trusty  Turk —  130 

No  more  but  so  :  it  must  and  shall  be  done.  \Exit. 

SCENE  II. 
Enter"^  Barabas  and  Ithamore. 

Bar.   Ithamore,  tell  me,  is  the  friar  asleep  ? 

Itha.  Yes ;  and  I  know  not  what  the  reason  is, 
Do  what  I  can  he  will  not  strip  himself, 
Nor  go  to  bed,  but  sleeps  in  his  own  clothes ; 
I  fear  me  he  mistrusts  what  we  intend. 

Bar.  No,  'tis  an  order  which  the  friars  use  : 
Yet,  if  he  knew  our  meanings,  could  he  'scape? 

Itha.  No,  none  can  hear  him,  cry  he  ne'er  so  loud. 

Bar.  Why,  true,  therefore  did  I  place  him  there  : 
The  other  chambers  open  towards  the  street.  10 

1  Scene  :  a  room  in  Barabas'  house.     In  the  4to.  this  scene  is  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  former. 


8o  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  iv. 

Itha.  You  loiter,  master,  wherefore  stay  we  thus? 
O  how  I  long  to  see  him  shake  his  heels. 

Bar.  Come  on,  sirrah. 
Off  with  your  girdle,  make  a  handsome  noose ; 

[Ithamore  viakes  a  twose  in  his  girdle.     They  put 
it  round  the  Friar's  neck. 
Friar,  awake  ! 

T'.  Barn.  What,  do  you  mean  to  strangle  me  ? 

Jtha.  Yes,  'cause  you  use  to  confess. 

Bar.  Blame  not  us  but  the  proverb,  Confess  and  be 
hanged ;  pull  hard. 

F.  Barn.  What,  will  you  have  ^  my  life  ?  20 

Bar.  Pull  hard,  I  say ;  you  would  have  had  my  goods. 

Itha.  Ay,  and  our  lives  too,  therefore  pull  amain. 

[^They  strangle  hirii. 
'Tis  neatly  done,  sir,  here's  no  print  at  all. 

Bar.  Then  it  is  as  it  should  be  ;  take  him  up. 

Itha.  Nay,  master,  be  ruled  by  me  a  little  \Stands  up 
the  dody] ;  so,  let  him  lean  upon  his  staff;  excellent !  he 
stands  as  if  he  were  begging  of  bacon. 

Bar.  Who  would  not  think  but  that  this  friar  lived? 
What  time  o'  night  is't  now,  sweet  Ithamore  ? 

Itha.  Towards  one.  30 

Bar.  Then  will  not  Jacomo  be  long  from  hence. 

[JSxeunt. 

1  Old  ed.    "save."     Perhaps  we  should  read: — "What  will  you? 
save  my  life !  " 


SCENE  III.]  The  Jew  of  Alalia.  8  r 

SCENE  III. 

Enter  ^  Friar  Jacomo. 

F.  Jac.  This  is  the  hour  wherein  I  shall  proceed ; 
O  happy  hour,'^  wherein  I  shall  convert 
An  infidel,  and  bring  his  gold  into  our  treasury  ! 
But  soft,  is  not  this  Barnardine  ?  it  is  ; 
And,  understanding  I  should  come  this  way, 
Stands  here  a  purpose,  meaning  me  some  wrong. 
And  intercept  my  going  to  the  Jew. 
Barnardine  ! 

Wilt  thou  not  speak?  thou  think'st  I  see  thee  not ; 
Away,  I'd  wish  thee,  and  let  me  go  by :  lo 

No,  wilt  thou  not  ?  nay,  then,  I'll  force  my  way  ; 
And  see,  a  staff  stands  ready  for  the  purpose  : 
As  thou  lik'st  that,  stop  me  another  time. 

\Strikes  him  a  fid  lie  falls. 

Enter  Barabas  and  Ithamore. 

Bar.  Why,  how  now,  Jacomo,  what  hast  thou  done  ? 

E  Jac.  Why,  stricken  him  that  would  have  struck  at  me. 

Bar.  Who  is  it  ? 
Barnardine  ?  now  out,  alas  !  he's  slain. 

Jtha.  Ay,  master,  he's  slain  ;  look  how  his  brains  drop 
out  en's  nose. 


1  Scene  :  the  front  of  Barabas'  house. 
-  I  am  tempted  to  arrange  the  verse  thus  : — 
"  O  happy  hour, 
Wherein  I  shall  convert  an  infidel, 
And  bring  his  gold  into  our  treasury  !  " 
VOL.   II.  F 


82  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  iv. 

F.  Jac.  Good  sirs,  I  have  done  't,  but  nobody  knows  it 
but  you  two — I  may  escape.  21 

Bar.  So  might   my  man   and    I    hang  with  you    for 
company. 

Itha.  No,  let  us  bear  him  to  the  magistrates. 

F.  Jac.  Good  Barabas,  let  me  go. 

Bar.   No,  pardon  me  ;  the  law  must  have  its  course. 
I  must  be  forced  to  give  in  evidence, 
That  being  importuned  by  this  Barnardine 
To  be  a  Christian,  I  shut  him  out. 

And  there  he  sat  :  now  I,  to  keep  my  word,  30 

And  give  my  goods  and  substance  to  your  house, 
Was  up  thus  early  ;  with  intent  to  go 
Unto  your  friary,  because  you  stayed. 

Itha.  Fie  upon  'em,  master ;  will  you  turn  Christian 
when  holy  friars  turn  devils  and  murder  one  another  ? 

Bar.  No,  for  this  example  I'll  remain  a  Jew  : 
Heaven  bless  me  ;  what  !  a  friar  a  murderer  ? 
When  shall  you  see  a  Jew  commit  the  like  ? 

Itha.  Why,  a  Turk  could  ha'  done  no  more. 

Bar.  To-morrow  is  the  sessions  ;  you  shall  to  it.       40 
Come,  Ithamore,  let's  help  to  take  him  hence. 

F.  Jac.  Villains,  1  am  a  sacred  person  ;  touch  me  not. 

Bar.  The  law  shall  touch  you,  we'll  but  lead  you,  we  : 
'Las  I  could  weep  at  your  calamity. 
Take  in  the  staff  too,  for  that  must  be  shown  : 
Law  wills  that  each  particular  be  known.  \Exetmt. 


SCENE  IV.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  %i 

SCENE  IV. 

Enter  ^  Bellamira  and  Pilia-Borsa. 

Bell.  Pilia-Borsa,  did'st  thou  meet  with  Ithamore  ? 

Pilia.   I  did. 

Bell.  And  didst  thou  deliver  my  letter  ? 

Pilia.  I  did. 

Bell.  And  what  think'st  thou  ?  will  he  come  ? 

Pilia.  I  think  so,  but  yet  I  cannot  tell ;  for  at  the 
reading  of  the  letter  he  look'd  like  a  man  of  another 
world. 

Bell.  Why  so  ? 

Pilia.  That  such  a  base  slave  as  he  should  be  saluted 
by  such  a  tall  man  as  I  am,  from  such  a  beautiful  dame 
as  you.  12 

Bell.  And  what  said  he  ? 

Pilia.  Not  a  wise  word,  only  gave  me  a  nod,  as  who 
should  say,  "Is  it  even  so?"  and  so  I  left  him, ^ being 
driven  to  a  non-plus  at  the  critical  aspect  of  my  terrible 
countenance. 

Bell.  And  where  didst  meet  him  ? 

Pilia.  Upon  mine  own  freehold,  within  forty  feet  of 
the  gallows,  conning  his  neck-verse,"  I  take  it,  looking  of 
a  friar's  execution,  whom  I  saluted  with  an  old  hempen 
proverb,  Hckiie  tibi,  eras  mihi,  and  so  I  left  him  to  the 


*  Scene :  a  balcony  of  Bellamira's  house. 

2  The  verse  read  by  criminals  to  entitle  them  to  "benefit  of  clergy." 
The  first  words  of  the  sist  Psalm  were  commonly  chosen. 


84  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  iv. 

mercy  of  the  hangman  :  but  the  exercise  ^  being  done, 
see  where  he  comes.  24 


Enter  Ithamore. 

Itha.  I  never  knew  a  man  take  his  death  so  patiently 
as  this  friar ;  he  was  ready  to  leap  off  ere  the  halter  was 
about  his  neck ;  and  when  the  hangman  had  put  on  his 
hempen  tippet,  he  made  such  haste  to  his  prayers,  as  if 
he  had  had  another  cure  to  serve  ;  well,  go  whither  he 
will,  I'll  be  none  of  his  followers  in  haste  :  and,  now  I 
think  on't,  going  to  the  execution,  a  fellow  met  me  with 
a  muschatoes  ^  like  a  raven's  wing,  and  a  dagger  with  a 
hilt  like  a  warming-pan,  and  he  gave  me  a  letter  from  one 
Madam  Bellamira,  saluting  me  in  such  sort  as  if  he  had 
meant  to  make  clean  my  boots  with  his  lips ;  the  effect 
was,  that  I  should  come  to  her  house.  I  wonder  what  the 
reason  is  ;  it  may  be  she  sees  more  in  me  than  I  can  find 
in  myself:  for  she  writes  further,  that  she  loves  me  ever 
since  she  saw  me,  and  who  would  not  requite  such  love  ? 
Here's  her  house,  and  here  she  comes,  and  now  would  I 
were  gone  ;  I  am  not  worthy  to  look  upon  her.  41 

Pilia.  This  is  the  gentleman  you  writ  to. 

Itha.  Gentleman  !  he  flouts  me  ;  what  gentry  can  be 
in  a  poor  Turk  of  tenpence?^     I'll  be  gone.  \Aside. 

1  Sermon.    Cf.  Richard  III.,  iii.  2: — 

"  I  thank  thee,  good  Sir  John,  with  all  my  heart ; 
I  am  in  debt  for  your  last  exercise." 
-  I.e.,  a  pair  of  mustachios. 

3  The  contemptuous  expression   "Turk  of  tenpence"  is  found  in 
Dekker's  Saiiromastix,  &c. 


SCENE  IV.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  85 

Bell.  Is't  not  a  sweet-faced  youth,  Pilia? 

Itha.  Again,  "  sweet  youth ; "  [Aside] — did  not  you,  sir, 
bring  the  sweet  youth  a  letter  ? 

PiVi'a.  I  did,  sir,  and  from  this  gentlewoman,  who,  as 
myself,  and  the  rest  of  the  family,  stand  or  fall  at  your 
service.  5° 

Be/l  Though  woman's  modesty  should  hale  me  back, 
I  can  withhold  no  longer ;  welcome,  sweet  love. 

///la.  Now  am  I  clean,  or  rather  foully  out  of  the 
way.  [Aside. 

Bell.  Whither  so  soon  ? 

ItJia.  I'll  go  steal  some  money  from  my  master  to  make 
me  handsome  [Aside]. — Pray  pardon  me,  I  must  go  and 
see  a  ship  discharged. 

Bell.  Canst  thou  be  so  unkind  to  leave  me  thus? 

Bilia.  And  ye  did  but  know  how  she  loves  you,  sir. 

Il/ia.  Nay,  I  care  not  how  much  she  loves  me.  Sweet 
Bellamira,  would  I  had  my  master's  wealth  for  thy  sake. 

Bi/ia.  And  you  can  have  it,  sir,  an  if  you  please.       63 

Ji/ia.  If  'twere  above  ground  I  could  and  would  have 
it ;  but  he  hides  and  buries  it  up,  as  partridges  do  their 
eggs,  under  the  earth. 

Bilia.  And  is't  not  possible  to  find  it  out  ? 

Il/ia.  By  no  means  possible. 

Bell  What  shall  we  do  with  this  base  villain  then  ? 

[Aside  to  Pilia-Borsa. 

Bilia.  Let  me  alone  ;  do  you  but  speak  him  fair. — 

[Aside  to  her. 
But  [sir]  you  know  some  secrets  of  the  Jew,  71 

Which,  if  they  were  revealed,  would  do  him  harm. 


86  The  yew  of  Malta.  [act  iv, 

Itha.  Ay,  and  such  as — Go  to,  no  more.  I'll  make  him 
send  me  half  he  has,  and  glad  he  scapes  so  too. 

\Pen  and  inky 
I'll  write  unto  him ;  we'll  have  money  straight. 

Pilia.  Send  for  a  hundred  crowns  at  least 

Itha.  Ten  hundred  thousand  crowns — Master  Bara- 
bas.  [  Writing. 

Pilia.  Write  not  so  submissively,  but  threatening  him. 

Itha.   Sirrah^  Barabas,  send  me  a  hundred  crowns. 

Pilia.  Put  in  two  hundred  at  least. 

Itha.  I  cha?-ge  thee  send  7ne  three  hundred  by  this  bearer, 
and  this  shall  be  your  warrant ;  if  you  do  Jiot,  no  more., 
but  so.  83 

Pilia.  Tell  him  you  will  confess. 

Itha.  Otherwise  I'll  confess  all — Vanish,  and  return  in 
a  twinkle. 

Pilia.  Let  me  alone ;  I'll  use  him  in  his  kind. 

[Exit  PiLIA-BoRSA. 

Itha.  Hang  him,  Jew  ! 

Bell.  Now,  gentle  Ithamore,  lie  in  my  lap. 
Where  are  my  maids  ?  provide  a  running  ^  banquet ;     9° 
Send  to  the  merchant,  bid  him  bring  me  silks, 
Shall  Ithamore,  my  love,  go  in  such  rags  ? 

Itha.  And  bid  the  jeweller  come  hither  too. 

Bell.  I  have  no  husband,  sweet ;  I'll  marry  thee. 

Itha.   Content,  but  we  will  leave  this  paltry  land, 

1  In  old  ed.  these  words  are  printed  as  part  of  the  text.  I  have 
followed  Dyce  in  printing  them  as  a  stage-direction. 

2  So  the  old  ed. — Dyce  and  Cunningham  read  "cunning;"  but  the 
expression  "running  banquet"  (akin  to  our  "hasty  meal")  occurs  in 
Henry  VIII. ,  i.  4,  1.  13. 


SCENE  IV.]  The  yew  of  Malta.  87 

And  sail  from  hence  to  Greece,  to  lovely  Greece. 

I'll  be  thy  Jason,  thou  my  golden  fleece  ; 

Where  painted  carpets  o'er  the  meads  are  hurled, 

And  Bacchus'  vineyards  overspread  the  world ; 

Where  woods  and  forests  go  in  goodly  green,  100 

I'll  be  Adonis,  thou  shalt  be  Love's  Queen. 

The  meads,  the  orchards,  and  the  primrose-lanes, 

Instead  of  sedge  and  reed,  bear  sugar-canes  : 

Thou  in  those  groves,  by  Dis  above, 

Shalt  live  with  me  and  be  my  love. 

Bell.  Whither  will  I  not  go  with  gentle  Ithamore? 

Enter  Pilia-Borsa. 

Itha.  How  now  !  hast  thou  the  gold  ? 

Pilia.  Yes. 

Itha.  But  came  it  freely  ?  did  the  cow  give  down  her 
milk  freely  ? 

Filia.  At  reading  of  the  letter,  he  stared  and  stamped 
and  turned  aside.  I  took  him  by  the  beard, ^  and  looked 
upon  him  thus ;  told  him  he  were  best  to  send  it ;  then 
he  hugged  and  embraced  me.  114 

Itha.  Rather  for  fear  than  love. 

Pilia.  Then,  like  a  Jew,  he  laughed  and  jeered,  and 
told  me  he  loved  me  for  your  sake,  and  said  what  a  faith- 
ful servant  you  had  been. 

Itha.  The  more  villain  he  to  keep  me  thus  ;  here's 
goodly  'parel,  is  there  not  ?  120 

Pilia.  To  conclude,  he  gave  me  ten  crowns. 

Itha.  But  ten  ?     I'll  not  leave  him  worth  a  grey  groat. 

1  So  modern  editors.     Old  ed.  "sterd." 


88  The  Jezv  of  Malta.  [act  iv. 

Give  me  a  ream  ^  of  paper ;  we'll  have  a  kingdom  of  gold 
for  't. 

Pilia.  Write  for  five  hundred  crowns. 

Itha.  [  Writing?^  Sirrah,  Jezv,  as  you  love  your  life  send 
vie  five  hundred  croivns,  and  give  the  bearer  one  hundred. 
Tell  him  I  must  have  't. 

Pilia.  I  warrant  your  worship  shall  have  't. 

ItJm.  And  if  he  ask  why  I  demand  so  much,  tell  him  I 
scorn  to  write  a  line  under  a  hundred  crowns.  131 

Filia.  You'd  make  a  rich  poet,  sir.    I  am  gone.    \Exit. 

Itha.  Take  thou  the  money  j  spend  it  for  my  sake. 

Bell.  'Tis  not  thy  money,  but  thyself  I  weigh  : 
Thus  Bellamira  esteems  of  gold.    \Throius  it  on  tlie  floor. 
But  thus  of  thee.  \Kisses  him. 

Itha.  That  kiss  again  ;  she  runs  division  -  of  my  lips. 
What  an  eye  she  casts  on  me  ?     It  twinkles  like  a  star. 

Bell.  Come,  my  dear  love,  let's  in  and  sleep  together, 

Itha.  O,  that  ten  thousand  nights  were  put  in  one, 
that  we  might  sleep  seven  years  together  afore  we  wake. 

Bell.  Come,   amorous   wag,   first   banquet,  and    then 
sleep.  [Exeunt.     142 

SCENE  V, 

Enter^  Barabas,  reading  a  letter. 

Bar.   "Barabas,  send  me  three  hundred  crowns," 
Plain  Barabas  :  O,  that  wicked  courtesan  ! 

1  Dyce  observes  that  "  realm  "  was  often  written  "ream."     Alarlowe 
was  not  much  addicted  to  quibbling. 
-  A  musical  term. 
3  Scene  :  a  room  in  Barabas'  house. 


SCENE  v.]  The  Jew  of  Malta,  89 

He  was  not  wont  to  call  me  Barabas, 

"  Or  else  I  will  confess  :  "  ay,  there  it  goes  : 

But,  if  I  get  him,  coupe  de  gorge  for  that. 

He  sent  a  shaggy  tottered  ^  staring  slave, 

That  when  he  speaks  draws  out  his  grisly  beard, 

And  winds  it  twice  or  thrice  about  his  ear; 2 

Whose  face  has  been  a  grindstone  for  men's  swords ; 

His  hands  are  hacked,  some  fingers  cut  quite  off;         10 

Who,  when  he  speaks,  grunts  like  a  hog,  and  looks 

Like  one  that  is  employed  in  catzerie  ^ 

And  crossbiting,* — such  a  rogue 

As  is  the  husband  to  a  hundred  whores  : 

And  I  by  him  must  send  three  hundred  crowns  ! 

Well,  my  hope  is,  he  will  not  stay  there  still ; 

And  when  he  comes  :  O,  that  he  were  but  here  ! 

Enter  Pilia-Borsa. 

Ptiia.  Jew,  I  must  have  more  gold. 

Bar.  Why,  want'st  thou  any  of  thy  tale  ? 

Filia.  No;  but  three  hundred  will  not  serve  his  turn.  20 

Bar.  Not  serve  his  turn,  sir? 

1  "  Tottered  "  and  "  tattered"  are  used  indifferently  by  old  writers. 

2  Cf.  a  somewhat  similar  description  of  a  ruffian  in  Arden  of  Fever- 
sham  : — 

"  A  lean-faced  writhen  knave, 

Hawk-nosed  and  very  hollow-eyed, 
With  mighty  furrows  in  his  stormy  brow, 
Long  hair  down  his  shoulders  curled  ; 
His  chin  was  bare,  but  on  his  upper  lip 
A  mutchado  which  he  wound  about  his  eary 

3  A  word  formed  from  "  catso." 
*  Swindling. 


90  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  iv. 

Pilia.  No,  sir ;  and,  therefore,  I  must  have  five  hun- 
dred more. 

Bar.  I'll  rather 

Pilia.  O  good  words,  sir,  and  send  it  you  were  best ; 
see,  there's  his  letter.  \Gives  letter. 

Bar.  Might  he  not  as  well  come  as  send  ;  pray  bid 
him  come  and  fetch  it ;  what  he  writes  for  you,  ye  shall 
have  straight. 

Pilia.  Ay,  and  the  rest  too,  or  else 30 

Bar.   I  must  make  this  villain  away.  S^Aside. 

Please  you  dine  with  me,  sir  ; — and  you  shaU  be  most 
heartily  poisoned.  \Aside. 

Pilia.  No,  God-a-mercy.     Shall  I  have  these  crowns  ? 

Bar.  I  cannot  do  it,  I  have  lost  my  keys. 

Pilia.  O,  if  that  be  all,  I  can  pick  ope  your  locks. 

Bar.  Or  climb  up  to  my  counting-house  window : 
you  know  my  meaning. 

Pilia.  I  know  enough,  and  there,fcTTS'~talk  not  to  me 
of  your  counting-house.  The  gold,  or  know,  Jew,  it  is  in 
my  power  to  hang  thee.  41 

Bar.  I  am  betrayed.  \Aside. 

'Tis  not  five  hundred  crowns  that  I  esteem, 
I  am  not  moved  at  that :  this  angers  me, 
That  he  who  knows  I  love  him  as  myself. 
Should  write  in  this  imperious  vein.     Why,  sir, 
You  know  I  have  no  child,  and  unto  whom 
Should  I  leave  all  but  unto  Ithamore  ? 

Pilia.  Here's  many  words,  but  no  crowns :  the 
crowns !  5° 


SCENE  VI.]  The  yew  of  JMalta.  91 

Bar.  Commend  me  to  him,  sir,  most  humbly, 
And  unto  your  good  mistress,  as  unknown. 

Pilia.  Speak,  shall  I  have  'em,  sir? 

Bar.  Sir,  here  they  are. 
O,  that  I  should  part  with  so  much  gold  !  \^Aside. 

Here,  take  'em,  fellow,  with  as  good  a  will 

As  I  would  see  thee  hang'd  [Aside] ;  O,  love  stops  my 

breath  : 
Never  loved  man  servant  as  I  do  Ithamore. 

Pilia.  I  know  it,  sir. 

Bar.  Pray,  when,  sir,  shall  I  see  you  at  my  house  ? 

Pilia.  Soon  enough,  to  your  cost,  sir.  Fare  you  well.  60 

[Exit. 

Bar.   Nay,  to  thine  own  cost,  villain,  if  thou  com'st. 
Was  ever  Jew  tormented  as  I  am  ? 
To  have  a  shag-rag  knave  to  come, — 
Three  hundred  crowns, — and  then  five  hundred  crowns  ! 
Well,  I  must  seek  a  means  to  rid  'em  all. 
And  presently ;  for  in  his  villainy 
He  will  tell  all  he  knows,  and  I  shall  die  for't. 
I  have  it : 

I  will  in  some  disguise  go  see  the  slave. 
And  how  the  villain  revels  with  my  gold.  70 

[Exit. 

SCENE  VI. 

Enter^  Bellamira,  Ithamore,  and  Pilia-Borsa. 

Bell.  I'll  pledge  thee,  love,  and  therefore  drink  it  off. 

^  Scene  :  the  balcony  of  Bellamira's  house. 


9  2  The  Jew  of  Malta,  [act  iv. 

Itha.  Say'st  thou  me  so  ?  have  at  it ;    and  do  you 
hear  ?  [  Whispers. 

Bell.  Go  to,  it  shall  be  so. 

Itha.  Of  that  condition  I  will  drink  it  up. 
Here's  to  thee. 

Bell.^  Nay,  I'll  have  all  or  none. 

Itha.  There,  if  thou  lov'st  me  do  not  leave  a  drop. 

Bell.   Love  thee  !  fill  me  three  glasses. 

Itha.  Three  and  fifty  dozen,  I'll  pledge  thee. 

Pilia.  Knavely  spoke,  and  like  a  knight-at-arms. 

Itha.  Hey,  Rivo  ^  Castiliano  !  a  man's  a  man.  lo 

Bell.  Now  to  the  Jew. 

Itha.  Ha  !  to  the  Jew,  and  send  me  money  he  ^  were 
best. 

Filia.  What  would'st  thou  do  if  he  should  send  thee 
none  ? 

Itha.  Do  nothing ;  but  I  know  what  I  know ;  he's  a 
murderer. 

Bell.  I  had  not  thought  he  had  been  so  brave  a  man. 

Itha.  You  knew  Mathias  and  the  Governor's  son  \  he 
and  I  killed  'em  both,  and  yet  never  touched  'em. 

Pilia.  O,  bravely  done.  20 

Itha.  I  carried  the  broth  that  poisoned  the  nuns  ;  and 
he  and  I,  snickle  hand  too  fast,*  strangled  a  friar. 

1  Old  ed.  Pil. 

2  The  origin  of  this  boisterous  exclamation  is  uncertain.  Gifford 
suggested  that  it  was  corrupted  from  the  Spanish  rio,  which  is  figu- 
ratively used  for  a  large  quantity  of  liquor.  Dyce  quotes  from  the 
anonymous  comedy,  Look  about  you  ; — 

"  And  Kyvo  will  he  cry  and  Castile  too." 

3  Old  ed.  "  you." 

*A  corrupt  passage.  "Snickle"  is  a  North-country  word  for 
"noose."    Cunningham  proposed  "  snickle  hard  and  fast," 


SCENE  VI.]  The  yew  of  Malta.  93 

Bell.  You  two  alone  ! 

Itha.  We  two,  and  'twas  never  known,  nor  never  shall 
be  for  me. 

Pilia.  This  shall  with  me  unto  the  Governor. 

\Aside  to  Bellamira. 

Bell  And  fit  it  should  :  but  first  let's  ha'  more  gold. 

\Aside. 
Come,  gentle  Ithamore,  lie  in  my  lap. 

Itha.  Love  me  little,  love  me  long ;  let  music  rumble 
Whilst  I  in  thy  incony  ^  lap  do  tumble.  30 

Enter  Barabas,  with  a  lute,  disguised. 

Bell.  A  French  musician  ;  come,  let's  hear  your  skill  ? 

Bar.  Must  tuna  my  lute  for  sound,  tiaang,  twang, 
first. 

Itha.  Wilt  drink.  Frenchman?  here's  to  thee  with 
a Pox  on  this  drunken  hiccup  ! 

Bar.  Gramercy,  monsieur. 

Bell.  Prythee,  Pilia-Borsa,  bid  the  fiddler  give  me 
the  posy  in  his  hat  there. 

Filia.  Sirrah,  you  must  give  my  mistress  your  posy. 

Bar.  A  voire  coDwiandement,  madame.  40 

Bell.  How  sweet,  my  Ithamore,  the  flowers  smell. 

Itha.  Like  thy  breath,  sweetheart,  no  violet  like  'em. 

Pilia.  Foh  !  methinks  they  stink  like  a  hollyhock. 


^  Old  ed.  '^  incoomy."  The  word  "incony"  (which  is  found  in 
Lovers  Labour's  Lost,  <S:c.)  means  "  delicate,  dainty."  It  has  been  doubt- 
fully derived  from  the  North-country  "  canny  "  or  "  conny  "  (in  the  sense 
of  pretty),  the  prefix  "  in  "  having  an  intensive  force. 


94  ^-^^  yew  of  Malta.  [act  iv. 

Bar.  So,  now  I  am  revenged  upon  'em  all. 
The  scent  thereof  was  death  ;  I  poisoned  it.  \^Aside. 

Jtha.  Play,  fiddler,  or  I'll  cut  your  cat's  guts  into  chit- 
terlings. 

Bar.  Pardonnez  moi,  be  no  in  tune  yet ;  so  now,  now 
all  be  in. 

Itha.  Give  him  a  crown,  and  fill  me  out  more  wine.  50 

Pilia.  There's  two  crowns  for  thee,  play. 

Bar.  How  liberally  the  villain  gives  me  mine   own 
gold.  \_Aside. 

Pilia.  Methinks  he  fingers  very  well. 

Bar.  So  did  you  when  you  stole  my  gold.  \_Aside. 

Pilia.  How  swift  he  runs. 

Bar.  You  run  swifter  when  you  threw  my  gold  out  of 
my  window.  \Aside. 

Bell.  Musician,  hast  been  in  Malta  long? 

Bar.  Two,  three,  four  month,  madam.  60 

Itha.  Dost  not  know  a  Jew,  one  Barabas  ? 

Bar.  Very  mush  ;  monsieur,  you  no  be  his  man? 

Pilia.  His  man  ? 

Itha.  I  scorn  the  peasant ;  tell  him  so. 

Bar.   He  knows  it  already.  \Aside. 

Itha.  'Tis  a  strange  thing  of  that  Jew,  he  lives  upon 
pickled  grasshoppers  and  sauced  mushrooms. 

Bar.  What  a  slave's  this  ?  the  Governor  feeds  not  as 
I  do.  {Aside. 

Itha.  He  never  put  on  clean  shirt  since  he  was  circum- 
cised. 70 

Bar.  0  rascal  !  I  change  myself  twice  a  day. 

{Aside. 


SCENE  VI.]  The  Jezv  of  Malta.  95 

It/ia.  The  hat  he  wears,  Judas  left  under  the  elder  ^ 
when  he  hanged  himself. 

Bar.  'Twas  sent  me  for  a  present  from  the  great 
Cham.  [^Aside. 

Pilia.  A  musty  -  slave  he  is  ;  whither  now,  fiddler  ? 

Bar.  Pardomiez  moi,  monsieur,  me  ^  be  no  well.    \_Exit. 

Pilia.  Farewell,  fiddler :  one  letter  more  to  the  Jew. 

Bell.  Prythee,  sweet  love,  one  more,  and  write  it 
sharp.  80 

Itha.  No,  I'll  send  by  word  of  mouth  now ;  bid  him 
deliver  thee  a  thousand  crowns,  by  the  same  token,  that 
the  nuns  loved  rice, — that  Friar  Barnardine  slept  in  his 
own  clothes  ;  any  of  'em  will  do  it. 

Pilia.  Let  me  alone  to  urge  it,  now  I  know  the  mean- 
ing. 

Itha.  The  meaning  has  a  meaning ;  come  let's  in  : 
To  undo  a  Jew  is  charity,  and  not  sin.  \_Exeu7it. 


^  Dyce  quotes  from  Sir  John  Mandeville: — "And  fast  by  is  zit  the 
tree  of  Eldre  that  Judas  henge  him  self  upon  for  despeyt  that  he  hadde 
when  he  solde  and  betrayed  our  Lorde."—  Voia^e  and  Travell,  &c., 
p.  112,  ed.  1725.  "That  Judas  hanged  himself,"  says  Sir  Thomas 
Browne,  "much  more  that  he  perished  thereby,  we  shall  not  raise  a 
doubt.  Although  Jansenius,  discoursing  the  point,  produceth  the  testi- 
mony of  Theophylact  and  Euthymius  that  he  died  not  by  the  gallows 
but  under  a  cart-wheel ;  and  Baronius  also  delivereth,  this  was  the 
opinion  of  the  Greeks  and  derived  as  high  as  Papias  one  of  the  dis- 
ciples of  John.  Although,  also,  how  hardly  the  expression  of  Matthew 
is  reconcileable  unto  that  of  Peter,  and  that  he  plainly  hanged  himself, 
with  that,  that  falling  headlong  he  burst  asunder  in  the  midst— with 
many  other  the  learned  Grotius  plainly  doth  acknowledge." — Vulgar 
Errors,  vii.  ii. 

2  Old  ed.  "masty."     Dyce  "nasty." 

3  Olded.  "we." 


(    96    ) 


ACT  THE  FIFTH. 

SCENE  I. 
Enter'^  Governor,  Knights,  and  Martin  del  Bosco. 

Gov.  Now,  gentlemen,  betake  you  to  your  arms, 
And  see  that  Malta  be  well  fortified  ; 
And  it  behoves  you  to  be  resolute ; 
For  Calymath,  having  hovered  here  so  long, 
Will  win  the  town  or  die  before  the  walls. 

Knights.  And  die  he  shall,  for  we  will  never  yield. 

Etifer  Bellamira  a?id  Pilia-Borsa. 

Bell.   O,  bring  us  to  the  Governor. 

Gov.  Away  with  her ;  she  is  a  courtesan. 

Bell.  Whate'er  I  am,  yet.  Governor,  hear  me  speak ; 
I  bring  thee  news  by  whom  thy  son  was  slain  :  lo 

Mathias  did  it  not ;  it  was  the  Jew. 

Pilia.  Who,  besides  the  slaughter  of  these  gentlemen, 
Poisoned  his  own  daughter  and  the  nuns, 
Strangled  a  friar,  and  I  know  not  what 
Mischief  besides. 

1  Scene  :  the  Senate-house. 


SCENE  I.]             The  yew  of  Malta.  9  7 

Gov.  Had  we  but  proof  of  this 


Bell  Strong  proof,  my  lord ;  his  man's  now   at   my 
lodging, 
That  was  his  agent ;  he'll  confess  it  all. 

Gov.    Go   fetch    him    straight    \_Excnnf   Officers].     I 
always  feared  that  Jew. 

Enter  Officers  with  Barabas  and  Ithamore. 

Bar.   I'll  go  alone ;  dogs,  do  not  hale  me  thus. 

Itha.  Nor  me  neither,  I  cannot  outrun  you,  constable  : 
O  my  belly  !  21 

Bar.  One  dram  of  powder  more  had  made  all  sure ; 
What  a  damned  slave  was  I  !  \_Aside. 

Gov.  Make  fires,  heat  irons,  let  the  rack  be  fetched. 

Knights.  Nay,  stay,  my  lord,  't  may  be  he  will  confess  ? 

Bar.    Confess !  what  mean  you,  lords  ?   who  should 
confess? 

Goz'.  Thou  and  thy  Turk  ;  'twas  you  that  slew  my  son. 

Itha.  Guilty,  my  lord,  I  confess  :  your  son  and  Mathias 
were  both  contracted  unto  Abigail ;  [he]  forged  a  counter 
feit  challenge.  30 

Bar.  Who  carried  that  challenge  ? 

Itha.  I  carried  it,  I  confess  ;  but  who  writ  it  ?  Marry, 
even  he  that  strangled  Barnardine,  poisoned  the  nuns 
and  his  own  daughter. 

Gov.  Away  with  him,  his  sight  is  death  to  me. 

Bar.  For  what,  you  men  of  Malta  ?  hear  me  speak  : 
She  is  a  courtesan,  and  he  a  thief, 
And  he  my  bondman.     Let  me  have  law, 
For  none  of  this  can  prejudice  my  life.  39 

VOL.  II.  G 


98  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  v. 

Gov.  Once  more,  away  with  him  ;  you  shall  have  law. 
Bar,  Devils,  do  your  worst,  I  live  in  spite  of  you.  \Aside. 
As  these  have  spoke,  so  be  it  to  their  souls ! — 
I  hope  the  poisoned  flowers  will  work  anon.  \_Aside. 

\Exeunt. 
Enter  the  Mother  of  Mathias. 

Mother.  Was  my  Mathias  murdered  by  the  Jew  ? 
Ferneze,  'twas  thy  son  that  murdered  him. 

Gov.  Be  patient,  gentle  madam,  it  was  he. 
He  forged  the  daring  challenge  made  them  fight. 

Mother.  Where  is  the  Jew  ?  where  is  that  murderer  ? 

Gov.  In  prison  till  the  law  has  past  on  him.  49 

Enter  Officer. 

Off.  My  lord,  the  courtesan  and  her  man  are  dead : 
So  is  the  Turk  and  Barabas  the  Jew. 
Gov.  Dead ! 

Off.  Dead,  my  lord,  and  here  they  bring  his  body. 
Bosco.  This  sudden  death  of  his  is  very  strange. 

Re-enter  Officers  carrying  Barabas  as  dead. 

Gov.  Wonder  not  at  it,  sir,  the  heavens  are  just ; 
Their  deaths  were  like  their  lives,  then  think  not  of 'em; 
Since  they  are  dead,  let  them  be  buried. 
For  the  Jew's  body,  throw  that  o'er  the  walls, 
To  be  a  prey  for  vultures  and  wild  beasts. 
So  now  away,  and  fortify  the  town.  60 

\Exeunt  all,  leaving  Barabas  on  the  floor. ^ 

1  We  are  to  suppose  that  Barabas'  body  had  been  thrown  "o'er  the 
walls,"  according  to  the  Governor's  order.  The  scene  is  now  changed 
from  the  Senate-house  to  the  outside  of  the  city. 


SCENE  I.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  99 

Bar.  \Rising^  What,  all  alone?  well  fare,  sleepy  drink. 
I'll  be  revenged  on  this  accursed  town  ; 
For  by  my  means  Calymath  shall  enter  in. 
I'll  help  to  slay  their  children  and  their  wives, 
To  fire  the  churches,  pull  their  houses  down. 
Take  my  goods  too,  and  seize  upon  my  lands  : 
I  hope  to  see  the  Governor  a  slave. 
And,  rowing  in  a  galley,  whipt  to  death. 

Enter  Calymath,  Bassoes,  and  Turks. 

Caly.  Whom  have  we  here,  a  spy  ? 

Bar.  Yes,  my  good  lord,  one  that  can  spy  a  place   70 
Where  you  may  enter,  and  surprise  the  town  : 
My  name  is  Barabas  :  I  am  a  Jew. 

Caly.  Art  thou  that  Jew  whose  goods  we  heard  were 
sold 
For  tribute-money  ? 

Bar.  The  very  same,  my  lord  : 
And  since  that  time  they  have  hired  a  slave,  my  man. 
To  accuse  me  of  a  thousand  villanies  : 
I  was  imprisoned,  but  escaped  their  hands. 

Caly.  Did'st  break  prison  ? 

Bar.  No,  no  ; 
I  drank  of  poppy  and  cold  mandrake  juice  :  ^  80 


1  A  herb  of  powerful  soporific  qualities.     Shakespeare  couples  it  with 
' '  poppy  "  in  Othello  : — 

"  Not  poppy  nor  mandrat^ora , 

Nor  all  the  powerful  syrups  of  the  world, 
Shall  ever  medicine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 
Which  thou  ow'dst  yesterday." 


lOO  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  v. 

And  being  asleep,  belike  they  thought  me  dead, 
And  threw  me  o'er  the  walls  :  so,  or  how  else, 
The  Jew  is  here,  and  rests  at  your  command. 

Caly.  ^Twas  bravely  done  :  but  tell  me,  Barabas, 
Canst  thou,  as  thou  report'st,  make  Malta  ours  ? 

Bar.  Fear  not,  my  lord,  for  here  against  the  sluice,^ 
The  rock  is  hollow,  and  of  purpose  digged. 
To  make  a  passage  for  the  running  streams 
And  common  channels  of  the  city. 
Now,  whilst  you  give  assault  unto  the  walls,  90 

I'll  lead  five  hundred  soldiers  through  the  vault, 
And  rise  with  them  i'  the  middle  of  the  town, 
Open  the  gates  for  you  to  enter  in. 
And  by  this  means  the  city  is  your  own. 

Caly.  If  this  be  true,  I'll  make  thee  governor. 

Bar.  And  if  it  be  not  true,  then  let  me  die. 

Caly.  Thou'st  doomed  thyself.     Assault  it  presently. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 

Alarms.     Enter'^  Turks,  Barabas,  6^r./  Governor  a7id 
Knights  prisoners. 

Caly.  Now  vail  ^  your  pride,  you  captive  Christians, 
And  kneel  for  mercy  to  your  conquering  foe  : 
Now  where's  the  hope  you  had  of  haughty  Spain  ? 


1  Old  ed.  "truce."   The  correction  is  Collier's.    Dyce  reads  "trench." 
-  Scene  :  a  square  in  the  city. 
3  Lower. 


SCENE  II. J  The  J ew  of  Malta.  loi 

Femeze,  speak,  had  it  not  been  much  better 
T'have^  kept  thy  promise  than  be  thus  surprised? 

Gov.  What  should  I  say  ?     We  are  captives  and  must 
yield. 

Caly.  Ay,  villains,  you  must  yield,  and  under  Turkish 
yokes 
Shall  groaning  bear  the  burden  of  our  ire  ; 
And,  Barabas,  as  erst  we  promised  thee, 
For  thy  desert  we  make  thee  governor;  lo 

Use  them  at  thy  discretion. 

Bar.  Thanks,  my  lord. 

Gov.  O  fatal  day,  to  fall  into  the  hand 
Of  such  a  traitor  and  unhallowed  Jew  ! 
What  greater  misery  could  Heaven  inflict  ? 

Caly.  'Tis  our  command :  and,  Barabas,  we  give 
To  guard  thy  person  these  our  Janizaries  : 
Entreat  them  well,  as  we  have  used  thee. 
And  now,  brave  bassoes,  come,  we'll  walk  about 
The  ruined  town,  and  see  the  wreck  we  made : 
Farewell,  brave  Jew  \  farewell,  great  Barabas  !  20 

\Exeimt  Calymath  and  Bassoes. 

Bar.  May  all  good  fortune  follow  Calymath. 
And  now,  as  entrance  to  our  safety. 
To  prison  with  the  Governor  and  these 
Captains,  his  consorts  and  confederates. 

Gov.  O  villain.  Heaven  will  be  revenged  on  thee. 

\Exeunt. 

Bar.  Away,  no  more,  let  him  not  trouble  me. 

1  Olded.  "To  kept." 


SANTA  BARBARA  COUi^c 


102  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  v. 

Thus^  hast  thou  gotten,  by  thy  policy, 

No  simple  place,  no  small  authority, 

I  now  am  governor  of  Malta ;  true, 

But  Malta  hates  me,  and,  in  hating  me,  30 

My  life's  in  danger,  and  what  boots  it  thee, 

Poor  Barabas,  to  be  the  governor, 

Whenas  thy  life  shall  be  at  their  command  ? 

No,  Barabas,  this  must  be  looked  into ; 

And  since  by  wrong  thou  got'st  authority, 

Maintain  it  bravely  by  firm  policy. 

At  least  unprofitably  lose  it  not : 

For  he  that  liveth  in  authority, 

And  neither  gets  him  friends,  nor  fills  his  bags, 

Lives  like  the  ass  that  -^sop  speaketh  of,  40 

That  labours  with  a  load  of  bread  and  wine. 

And  leaves  it  off  to  snap  on  thistle-tops  : 

But  Barabas  will  be  more  circumspect. 

Begin  betimes ;  occasion's  bald  behind, 

Slip  not  thine  opportunity,  for  fear  too  late 

Thou  seek'st  for  much,  but  canst  not  compass  it. 

Within  here ! 

Enter  Governor,  with  a  Guard. 

Gov.  My  lord  ? 

Bar.  Ay,  lord ;  thus  slaves  will  learn. 
Now,  Governor,  stand  by  there  : — wait  within.  5° 

\Exit  Guard. 
This  is  the  reason  that  I  sent  for  thee ; 

1  The  scene  shifts  to  the  Governor's  house. 


SCENE  II.]  The  y ew  of  Malta.  103 

Thou  seest  thy  life  and  Malta's  happiness 

Are  at  my  arbitrament ;  and  Barabas 

At  his  discretion  may  dispose  of  both  : 

Now  tell  me,  Governor,  and  plainly  too, 

What  think'st  thou  shall  become  of  it  and  thee  ? 

Gov.  This,  Barabas ;  since  things  are  in  thy  power, 
I  see  no  reason  but  of  Malta's  wreck, 
Nor  hope  of  thee  but  extreme  cruelty ; 
Nor  fear  I  death,  nor  will  I  flatter  thee.  60 

Bar.  Governor,  good  words  ;  be  not  so  furious. 
'Tis  not  thy  life  which  can  avail  me  aught, 
Yet  you  do  live,  and  live  for  me  you  shall : 
And,  as  for  Malta's  ruin,  think  you  not 
'Twere  slender  policy  for  Barabas 
To  dispossess  himself  of  such  a  place  ? 
For  sith,  as  once  you  said,  'tis  in  this  isle, 
In  Malta  here,  that  I  have  got  my  goods, 
And  in  this  city  still  have  had  success. 
And  now  at  length  am  grown  your  governor,  70 

Yourselves  shall  see  it  shall  not  be  forgot : 
For,  as  a  friend  not  known  but  in  distress, 
I'll  rear  up  Malta,  now  remediless. 

Gov.  Will  Barabas  recover  Malta's  loss? 
Will  Barabas  be  good  to  Christians  ? 

Bar.  What  wilt  thou  give  me,  Governor,  to  procure 
A  dissolution  of  the  slavish  bands 
Wherein  the  Turk  hath  yoked  your  land  and  you  ? 
What  will  you  give  me  if  I  render  you 
The  life  of  Calymath,  surprise  his  men  80 

And  in  an  outhouse  of  the  city  shut 


1 04  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  v. 

His  soldiers,  till  I  have  consumed  'em  all  with  fire  ? 
What  will  you  give  him  that  procureth  this  ? 

Gov.  Do  but  bring  this  to  pass  which  thou  pretend'st/ 
Deal  truly  with  us  as  thou  intimatest, 
And  I  will  send  amongst  the  citizens, 
And  by  my  letters  privately  procure 
Great  sums  of  money  for  thy  recompense  : 
Nay  more,  do  this,  and  live  thou  governor  still. 

Bar.  Nay,  do  thou  this,  Ferneze,  and  be  free  ;  90 

Governor,  I  enlarge  thee ;  live  with  me, 
Go  walk  about  the  city,  see  thy  friends  : 
Tush,  send  not  letters  to  'em,  go  thyself, 
And  let  me  see  what  money  thou  canst  make ; 
Here  is  my  hand  that  I'll  set  Malta  free : 
And  thus  we  cast  it :  to  a  solemn  feast 
I  will  invite  young  Selim  Calymath, 
Where  be  thou  present  only  to  perform 
One  stratagem  that  I'll  impart  to  thee, 
Wherein  no  danger  shall  betide  thy  life,  100 

And  I  will  warrant  Malta  free  for  ever. 

Gov.  Here  is  my  hand,  believe  me,  Barabas, 
I  will  be  there,  and  do  as  thou  desirest ; 
When  is  the  time? 

Bar.  Governor,  presently ; 
For  Calymath,  when  he  hath  viewed  the  town, 
Will  take  his  leave  and  sail  towards  Ottoman. 

Gov.  Then  will  I,  Barabas,  about  this  coin, 
And  bring  it  with  me  to  thee  in  the  evening. 

1  I.e.,  intend'st. 


SCENE  III.]  The  j^ew  of  Alalia. 

Bar.  Do  so,  but  fail  not ;  now  farewell,  Ferneze  : 

[Exit  Governor. 
And  thus  far  roundly  goes  the  business  :  no 

Thus  loving  neither,  will  I  live  with  both, 
Making  a  profit  of  my  policy  ; 
And  he  from  whom  my  most  advantage  comes 
Shall  be  my  friend. 

This  is  the  life  we  Jews  are  used  to  lead  ; 
And  reason  too,  for  Christians  do  the  like. 
Well,  now  about  effecting  this  device : 
First  to  surprise  great  Selim's  soldiers. 
And  then  to  make  provision  for  the  feast. 
That  at  one  instant  all  things  may  be  done  :  120 

My  policy  detests  prevention  : 
To  what  event  my  secret  purpose  drives, 
I  know ;  and  they  shall  witness  with  their  lives.      \_Exif. 

SCENE  III. 
Enter  Calymath  and  Bassoes. 

Caly.  Thus  have  we  viewed  the  city,  seen  the  sack. 
And  caused  the  ruins  to  be  new-repaired, 
Which  with  our  bombards'  ^  shot  and  basilisk[s]  ^ 
We  rent  in  sunder  at  our  entry : 
And  now  I  see  the  situation, 
And  how  secure  this  conquered  island  stands 
Environed  with  the  Mediterranean  sea, 
Strong-countermined  with  other  petty  isles  ; 

1  Large  cannons.  2  See  vol.  i,  p.  67,  note  2. 


io6  The  yeiu  of  Jlfalla.  [act  v. 

And,^  toward  Calabria,  backed  by  Sicily, 

(Where  Syracusian  Dionysius  reigned,)  lo 

Two  lofty  turrets  that  command  the  town  ; 

I  wonder  how  it  could  be  conquered  thus. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Jiless.  From  Barabas,  Malta's  governor,  I  bring 
A  message  unto  mighty  Calymath  ; 
Hearing  his  sovereign  was  bound  for  sea, 
To  sail  to  Turkey,  to  great  Ottoman, 
He  humbly  would  entreat  your  majesty 
To  come  and  see  his  homely  citadel, 
And  banquet  with  him  ere  thou  leav'st  the  isle. 

Caly.  To  banquet  with  him  in  his  citadel  ?  20 

I  fear  me,  messenger,  to  feast  my  train 
Within  a  town  of  war  so  lately  pillaged. 
Will  be  too  costly  and  too  troublesome : 
Yet  would  I  gladly  visit  Barabas, 
For  well  has  Barabas  deserved  of  us. 

Afess.  Selim,  for  that,  thus  saith  the  Governor, 
That  he  hath  in  [hisj  store  a  pearl  so  big, 
So  precious,  and  withal  so  orient. 
As,  be  it  valued  but  indifferently. 

The  price  thereof  will  serve  to  entertain  30 

Selim  and  all  his  soldiers  for  a  month  ; 

1  Old  ed.  :— 

"  And  toward  Calabria  back'd  by  Sicily, 
Two  lofty  Turrets  that  command  the  Towne. 
When  Siracusian  Dionisius  reign'd  ; 
I  wonder  how  it  could  be  conquer'd  thus." 
The  correction  was  made  by  the  editor  of  1826. 


SCENE  IV.]  The  J ew  of  Malta.  107 

Therefore  he  humbly  would  entreat  your  highness 
Not  to  depart  till  he  has  feasted  you. 

Caly.  I  cannot  feast  my  men  in  Malta-walls, 
Except  he  place  his  tables  in  the  streets. 

Mess.  Know,  Selim,  that  there  is  a  monastery 
Which  standeth  as  an  outhouse  to  the  town : 
There  will  he  banquet  them ;  but  thee  at  home, 
With  all  thy  bassoes  and  brave  followers. 

Caly.  Well,  tell  the  Governor  we  grant  his  suit,         40 
We'll  in  this  summer  evening  feast  with  him. 

Mess.  I  shall,  my  lord.  \Exit. 

Caly.  And  now,  bold  bassoes,  let  us  to  our  tents. 
And  meditate  how  we  may  grace  us  best 
To  solemnise  our  Governor's  great  feast.  {Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV. 
Enter  ^  Governor,  Knights,  aiid  Del  Bosco. 

Gov.  In  this,  my  countrymen,  be  ruled  by  me, 
Have  special  care  that  no  man  sally  forth 
Till  you  shall  hear  a  culverin  discharged 
By  him  that  bears  the  linstock,-  kindled  thus  ; 
Then  issue  out  and  come  to  rescue  me. 
For  happily  I  shall  be  in  distress, 
Or  you  released  of  this  servitude. 

Knight.  Rather  than  thus  to  live  as  Turkish  thralls, 
What  will  we  not  adventure  ? 


1  Scene  :  a  street. 

2  The  stick  that  held  the  gunner's  match. 


io8  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  v. 

Gov.  On  then,  be  gone. 

Knight.  Farewell,  grave  Governor  !  [Exeunt.  lo 

SCENE  V. 

Enter^  above,  Barabas,  with  a  hammer,  very  busy  ; 
and  Carpenters. 

Bar.  How  stand  the  cords  ?     How  hang  these  hinges  ? 
fast? 
Are  all  the  cranes  and  pulleys  sure  ? 

First  Carp.-  All  fast. 

Bar.  Leave  nothing  loose,  all  levelled  to  my  mind. 
Why  now  I  see  that  you  have  art  indeed. 
There,  carpenters,  divide  that  gold  amongst  you  : 
Go  swill  in  bowls  of  sack  and  muscadine  ! 
Down  to  the  cellar,  taste  of  all  my  wines. 

First  Carp.  We  shall,  my  lord,  and  thank  you.   [Exeunt. 

Bar.  And,  if  you  like  them,  drink  your  fill  and  die  : 
For  so  I  live,  perish  may  all  the  world.  lo 

Now  Selim  Calymath  return  me  word 
That  thou  wilt  come,  and  I  am  satisfied. 
Now,  sirrah,  what,  will  he  come  ? 

Enter  Messenger. 

3fess.   He  will  ;  and  has  commanded  all  his  men 
To  come  ashore,  and  march  through  Malta-streets, 
That  thou  mayest  feast  them  in  thy  citadel. 

Bar.  Then  now  are  all  things  as  my  wish  would  have 
'em, 

1  Scene :  the  hall  of  the  Governor's  house.     Barabas  is  in  the  gallery. 

2  Olded.  "Serv." 


SCENE  v.]  The  yew  of  Malta,  109 

There  wanteth  nothing  but  the  Governor's  pelf, 
And  see,  he  brings  it. 

Enter  Governor. 

Now,  Governor,  the  sum. 

Gov.  With  free  consent,  a  hundred  thousand  pounds. 

Bar.  Pounds  say'st  thou,  Governor?  well,  since  it  is 
no  more,  21 

I'll  satisfy  myself  with  that  \  nay,  keep  it  still, 
For  if  I  keep  not  promise,  trust  not  me. 
And,  Governor,  now  take  my  policy  : 
First,  for  his  army,  they  are  sent  before, 
Entered  the  monastery,  and  underneath 
In  several  places  are  field-pieces  pitched. 
Bombards,  whole  barrels  full  of  gunpowder, 
That  on  the  sudden  shall  dissever  it. 
And  batter  all  the  stones  about  their  ears,  30 

Whence  none  can  possibly  escape  alive  : 
Now  as  for  Calymath  and  his  consorts, 
Here  have  I  made  a  dainty  gallery. 
The  floor  whereof,  this  cable  being  cut, 
Doth  fall  asunder;  so  that  it  doth  sink 
Into  a  deep  pit  past  recovery. 

Here,  hold  that  knife,  and  when  thou  seest  he  comes, 
And  with  his  bassoes  shall  be  blithely  set, 
A  warning-piece  shall  be  shot  off  from  the  tower. 
To  give  thee  knowledge  when  to  cut  the  cord  40 

And  fire  the  house  ;  say,  will  not  this  be  brave  ? 

Gov.  O  excellent  !  here,  hold  thee,  Barabas, 
I  trust  thy  word,  take  what  I  promised  thee. 


I  lo  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  v. 

Bar,  No,  Governor,  I'll  satisfy  thee  first, 
Thou  shall  not  live  in  doubt  of  anything. 
Stand  close,  for  here  they  come  [Governor  retircs\.    Why, 

is  not  this 
A  kingly  kind  of  trade  to  purchase  towns 
Ey  treachery  and  sell  'era  by  deceit  ? 
Nd.w  tell  me,  worldlings,  undexnealhthe-stin  ^ 
If  greater  falsehood  ever  has  been  done  ?  50 

Enter  Calvmath  arid  Bassoes. 

Caly.  Come,  my  companion  bassoes  ;  see,  I  pray, 
How  busy  Barabas  is  there  above 
To  entertain  us  in  his  gallery  ; 
Let  us  salute  him.     Save  thee,  Barabas  ! 

Bar.  Welcome,  great  Calymath  ! 

Gov.  How  the  slave  jeers  at  him.  \Aside. 

Bar.  Will 't  please  thee,  mighty  Selim  Calymath, 
To  ascend  our  homely  stairs? 

Caly.  Ay,  Barabas; 
Come,  bassoes,  attend. ^ 

Gov.  Stay,  Calymath  !  60 

For  I  will  show  thee  greater  courtesy 
Than  Barabas  would  have  afforded  thee. 

Knight  [tai't/iin].  Sound  a  charge  there  ! 

[A  charge  ;  the  cable  cut.     Barabas  falls  into  a  cal- 
dron.    Enter  Martin  del  Bosco  and  Knights.^ 

1  Old  ed.  "  summe." 

2  Dyce  reads  "ascend." 

3  The  stage-direction  in  old  ed.  is  "  A  charge,  the  cable  cut.  A  caldron 
discovered."  In  Scene  4  the  Governor  had  directed  the  Knights  and 
Del  Bosco  to  issue  out  at  the  discharge  of  the  culverin. 


SCENE  v.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  1 1 1 

Caly.   How  now,  what  means  this  ? 

Bar.  Help,  help  me,  Christians,  help  !l 

Gov.  See,  Calymath,  this  was  devised  for  thee. 

Caly.  Treason  !  treason  !  bassoes,  fly ! 

Gov.  No,  Selim,  do  not  fly  \ 
See  his  end  first,  and  fly  then  if  thou  canst. 

Bar.  O  help  me,  Selim,  help  me,  Christians  I  70 

Governor,  why  stand  you  all  so  pitiless  ? 

Gov.  Should  I  in  pity  of  thy  plaints  or  thee, 
Accursed  Barabas,  base  Jew,  relent  ? 
No,  thus  I'll  see  thy  treachery  repaid, 
But  wish  thou  hadst  behaved  thee  otherwise. 

Bar.  You  will  not  help  me,  then  ? 

Gov.  No,  villain,  no. 

Bar.  And,   villains,    know   you   cannot   help   me 
now — 
Then,  Barabas,  breathe  forth  thy  latest  hate,^ 
And  in  the  fury  of  thy  torments  strive 
To  end  thy  life  with  resolution.  go 

Know,  Governor,  'twas  I  that  slew  thy  son  ; 
I  framed  the  challenge  that  did  make  them  meet : 
Know,  Calymath,  I  aimed  thy  overthrow, 
And  had  I  but  escaped  this  stratagem, 
I  would  have  brought  confusion  on  you  all, 
Damned  Christians  !  dogs  !  and  Turkish  infidels  ! 
But  now  begins  the  extremity  of  heat 
To  pinch  me  with  intolerable  pangs  : 
Die  life,  fly  soul,  tongue  curse  thy  fill,  and  die  !      {Dies. 

1  Cunningham's  correction  for  the  old  ed.'s  "  fate." 


1 1 2  The  Jew  of  Malta.  [act  v. 

Caly.  Tell  me,  you    Christians,  what  doth  this  por- 
tend ?  90 

Gov.  This  train  he  laid  to  have  entrapped  thy  life ; 
Now,  Selim,  note  the  unhallowed  deeds  of  Jews  : 
Thus  he  determined  to  have  handled  thee, 
But  I  have  rather  chose  to  save  thy  life. 

Caly.  Was  this  the  banquet  he  prepared  for  us  ? 
Let's  hence,  lest  further  mischief  be  pretended.^ 

Gov.  Nay,    Selim,    stay,    for   since   we   have    thee 
here, 
We  will  not  let  thee  part  so  suddenly ; 
Besides,  if  we  should  let  thee  go,  all's  one. 
For  with  thy  galleys  could'st  thou  not  get  hence,         100 
Without  fresh  men  to  rig  and  furnish  them. 

Caly.  Tush,  Governor,  take  thou  no  care  for 
that. 
My  men  are  all  aboard, 
And  do  attend  my  coming  there  by  this. 

Gov.  Why,  heard'st  thou  not  the  trumpet  sound  a 
charge  ? 

Caly.  Yes,  what  of  that  ? 

Gov.  Why  then  the  house  was  fired, 
Blown  up,  and  all  thy  soldiers  massacred. 

Caly.  O  monstrous  treason  ! 

Gov.  A  Jew's  courtesy  : 
For  he  that  did  by  treason  work  our  fall, 
By  treason  hath  delivered  thee  to  us :  no 

Know,  therefore,  till  thy  father  hath  made  good 

i  Intended. 


SCENE  v.]  The  Jew  of  Malta.  1 1 3 

The  ruins  done  to  Malta  and  to  us, 

Thou  canst  not  part  :  for  Malta  shall  be  freed, 

Or  Selim  ne'er  return  to  Ottoman. 

Caly.  Nay,  rather,  Christians,  let  me  go  to  Turkey, 
In  person  there  to  mediate  ^  your  peace ; 
To  keep  me  here  will  not  advantage  you. 

Gov.  Content  thee,  Calymath,  here  thou  must  stay, 
And  live  in  Malta  prisoner ;  for  come  all  -  the  world 
To  rescue  thee,  so  will  we  guard  us  now,  120 

As  sooner  shall  they  drink  the  ocean  dry 
Than  conquer  Malta,  or  endanger  us. 
So  march  away,  and  let  due  praise  be  given 
Neither  to  Fate  nor  Fortune,  but  to  Heaven.      [Exeunt. 

1  Old  ed,  "meditate."  2  Old  ed.  "call." 


VOL.  II.  H 


EDWARD   THE   SECOND. 


Edward  II.  was  entered  in  the  Stationers'  Books  6th  July  1593- 
In  the  Dyce  Library  at  South  Kensington  there  is  a  4to.  with  a 
MS.  title-page  (in  a  hand  of  the  late  seventeenth  century)  dated 
1593.  Without  doubt  the  date  1593  is  a  copyist's  mistake  for  1598. 
In  the  first  leaf,  which  is  in  MS.,  there  are  a  few  textual  differ- 
ences, due  to  the  copyist's  carelessness  ;  but  the  printed  matter 
throughout  (A.  3 — K.  2)  exhibits  the  text  of  ed.  1598. 

In  1876  an  edition  of  Edward  11.  in  8vo.,  dated  1594,  was  dis- 
covered in  the  library  at  Cassel.  The  title  is: — The  troublesome 
raigne  and  lamentable  death  of  Edward  the  second.  King  of  Eng- 
land: with  the  tragicall  fall  of  proud  Mortimer.  As  it  was  stindrie 
times  publiqiiely  acted  in  the  honourable  citie  of  London,  by  the  right 
honourable  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  his  servants.  Written  by  Chri. 
Marlow  Gent.  Imprinted  at  London  for  William  yones,  dwelling 
neare  Ilolborne  conduit  at  the  Signe  of  the  Gunne,  1 594. 

The  title  of  the  4to.  of  1598  runs  as  follows  : — The  troublesome 
raigne  and  lametitable  death  of  Edtvard  the  second.  King  of  England : 
with  the  tragicall  fall  of  proud  Al or  timer :  And  also  the  life  and  death 
of  Peirs  Gaueston,  the  great  Earle  of  Cornr^vall,  and  mighty  favorite 
of  king  Edward  the  second,  as  it  zoas  publiqitely  acted  by  the  right 
honorable  the  Earle  of  Pembrooke  his  seniauntes.  Written  by  Chri. 
Marlow  Gent.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Richard  Bradocke,  for 
William  Jones,  dwelling  ncere  Holbourne  conduit,  at  the  signe ^of 
the  Gunne,  1 598. 

Another  edition  (in  4to.)  appeared  in  1612,  with  the  following 
title  : — The  troublesome  raigne  and  lametitable  death  of  Edward  the 
second.  King  of  England :  with  the  tragicall  fall  of  proud  Mortimer. 
And  also  the  life  and  death  of  Peirs  Gaueston,  the  great  Earle  of 
Cornewall,  and  mighty  jaiionte  oj  King  Edward  the  second,  as  it 


was  pulliquely  acted  by  the  right  honorable  the  Earle  of  Pembroohe  his 
seriiants.  Written  by  Christopher  Alarlotv  Gent.  Pritited  at  London 
for  Roger  Barnes,  and  are  to  be  sould  at  his  shop  in  Chauncerie  Lane 
otter  against  the  RoUcs,  1612. 

The  last  of  the  old  editions  is  dated  1622  : —  The  troublesome  raigne 
and  lamentable  death  of  Edward  the  second.  King  of  England :  with 
the  Tragicall fall  of  proud  Mortimer.  And  also  the  life  and  death  of 
Peirs  Gatustone,  the  great  Earle  of  Corjiewall,  and  mighty  Fauorite 
of  King  Edward  the  second.  As  it  was  piiblikely  Acted  by  the  late 
Queenes  Maiesties  Seruants  at  the  Red  Bull  in  S.  Jolins  street e. 
Written  by  Christopher  Marlozv  Gent.  London,  Printed  for  Benry 
Bell,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  Shop,  at  the  Lame-hospitall  Gate,  mere 
Smilhficld,  1622. 

The  text  of  the  159S  4to.,  which  is  fairly  free  from  corruptions, 
differs  but  slightly  from  the  texts  of  the  two  later  4tos.  I  have  not 
had  an  opportunity  of  inspecting  the  8vo.  of  1594  ;  but  I  suspect 
that  it  agrees  very  closely  with  the  later  copies. 


P£/::SONS  REPRESENTED. 

Edward  II. 

Prince  Edward,  his  son,  aftenvards  Edward  III. 

Gaveston. 

Elder  Spencer. 

Young  Spencer. 

Elder  Mortimer. 

Young  Mortimer. 

Berkeley. 

Lancaster. 

Leicester. 

Edmund,  Earl  of  Kent. 

Arundel. 

Warwick. 

Pembroke. 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

Bishop  of  Winchester, 

Bishop  of  Coventry. 

Beaumont. 

Trussel. 

Sir  John  Hainault. 

Levune. 

Baldock. 

Matrevis. 

Gurney. 

Rice  ap  Howell. 

Lightborn. 

Abbot. 

Lords,  Messengers,  Monks,  James,  ^'c,  ^c. 

Queen  Isabella. 
Niece  to  Edward  II. 
Ladies. 


EDWARD    THE    SECOND. 

ACT  THE  FIRST. 
SCENE  I. 

Enier^  Gaveston,  reading  a  letter  from  the  King. 

Gav.  Afy  father  is  deceased !     Come,  Gaveston, 
And  share  the  kingdotn  with  thy  dearest  friend. 
Ah  !  words  that  make  me  surfeit  with  delight ! 
What  greater  bliss  can  hap  to  Gaveston 
Than  live  and  be  the  favourite  of  a  king  ! 
Sweet  prince,  I  come ;  these,  these  thy  amorous  lines 
Might  have  enforced  me  to  have  swum  from  France, 
And,  like  Leander,  gasped  upon  the  sand, 
So  thou  would'st  smile,  and  take  me  in  thine  arms. 
The  sight  of  London  to  my  exiled  eyes  lo 

Is  as  Elysium  to  a  new-come  soul ; 
Not  that  I  love  the  city,  or  the  men. 
But  that  it  harbours  him  I  hold  so  dear — 
The  king,  upon  whose  bosom  let  me  die,^ 

1  Scene  :  a  street  in  London. 

2  So  4tos. — Dyce  gives  "  lie  ;  "  but  "  die  "  may  perhaps  be  interpreted 
as  "swoon." 


I20  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

And  with  the  world  be  still  at  enmity. 

What  need  the  arctic  people  love  starlight, 

To  whom  the  sun  shines  both  by  day  and  night  ? 

Farewell  base  stooping  to  the  lordly  peers  ! 

My  knee  shall  bow  to  none  but  to  the  king. 

As  for  the  multitude,  that  are  but  sparks,  20 

Raked  up  in  embers  of  their  poverty  ; — 

Tanti ;^  I'll  fawn  -  first  on  the  wind 

That  glanceth  at  my  lips,  and  flieth  away. 

But  how  now,  what  are  these  ? 

Enter  three  poor  Men. 

Men.  Such  as  desire  your  worship's  service. 
Gav.  What  canst  thou  do  ? 

1  Man.  I  can  ride. 

Gav.  But  1  have  no  horse.     What  art  thou  ? 

2  Man.  A  traveller. 

Gav.  Let  me  see — thou  would'st  do  well 
To  wait  at  my  trencher  and  tell  me  lies  at  dinner-time ;  30 
And  as  I  hke  your  discoursing,  I'll  have  you. 
And  what  art  thou  ? 

3  Man.  A  soldier,  that  hath  served  against  the  Scot. 

1  Cf.  Day's  Parliament  of  Bees : — 

"Yet  if  you  meet  a  tart  antagonist, 
Or  discontented  rugged  satirist, 
That  slights  your  errant  or  his  art  that  penned  it, 
Cry  Tanti/" 
So  in  the  Prologue  to  Day's  Isle  of  Gulls : — 

' '  Detraction  he  scorns,  honours  the  best  : 
Tanti  for  hate,  thus  low  for  all  the  rest." 
3  So  Dyce. — 4tos.  "fanne." 


SCENE  I.]  Edward  the  Second.  121 

Gav.  Why,  there  are  hospitals  for  such  as  you  ; 
I  have  no  war,  and  therefore,  sir,  begone. 

3  Man.  Farewell,  and  perish  by  a  soldier's  hand, 
That  would'st  reward  them  with  an  hospital. 

Gav.  Ay,  ay,  these  words  of  his  move  me  as  much 
As  if  a  goose  would  play  the  porcupine. 
And  dart  her  plumes,^  thinking  to  pierce  my  breast.     40 
But  yet  it  is  no  pain  to  speak  men  fair  ; 
I'll  flatter  these,  and  make  them  live  in  hope.        \^Aside. 
You  know  that  I  came  lately  out  of  France, 
And  yet  I  have  not  viewed  my  lord  the  king ; 
If  I  speed  well,  I'll  entertain  you  all. 

Omnes.  We  thank  your  worship. 

Gav.  I  have  some  business.     Leave  me  to  myself. 

Omnes.  We  will  wait  here  about  the  court.      [Exeunt. 

Gav.  Do ;  these  are  not  men  for  me  ; 
I  must  have  wanton  poets,  pleasant  wits,  50 

Musicians,  that  with  touching  of  a  string 
May  draw  the  pliant  king  which  way  I  please. 
Music  and  poetry  is  his  delight ; 
Therefore  I'll  have  Italian  masks  by  night, 
Sweet  speeches,  comedies,  and  pleasing  shows  ; 
And  in  the  day,  when  he  shall  walk  abroad, 
Like  silvian '  nymphs  my  pages  shall  be  clad ; 
My  men,  like  satyrs  grazing  on  the  lawns. 


1  Mr.  Tancock  quotes  from  Pliny's  Natural  History: — "  Hystrici 
longiores  aculei  et  cum  intendit  cutem  missiles.  Ora  urgentium  figit 
canum  et  paulo  longius  jaculatur." 

2  So  the  4tos. — Dyce  reads  "  sylvan." 


12  2  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

Shall  with  their  goat-feet  dance  the  antic  hay.^ 

Sometime  a  lovely  boy  in  Dian's  shape,  60 

With  hair  that  gilds  the  water  as  it  glides, 

Crownets  of  pearl  about  his  naked  arms, 

And  in  his  sportful  hands  an  olive-tree, 

To  hide  those  parts  which  men  delight  to  see, 

Shall  bathe  him  in  a  spring ;  and  there  hard  by. 

One  like  Action  peeping  though  the  grove, 

Shall  by  the  angry  goddess  be  transformed. 

And  running  in  the  likeness  of  an  hart 

By  yelping  hounds  pulled  down,  and  -  seem  to  die  ; — 

Such  things  as  these  best  please  his  majesty.  70 

Here  comes  my  lord  ^  the  king,  and  [here]  the  nobles 

From  the  parliament.     I'll  stand  aside. 

Enter  the  King,  Lancaster,  Elder  Mortimer,  Young 
Mortimer,  Edmund,  Earl  of  Kent,  Guv,  Earl  of 
Warwick,  ^'c. 

Edw.  Lancaster ! 

Lan.  My  lord. 

Gav.  That  Earl  of  Lancaster  do  I  abhor.  [^Aside. 

Edw.  Will  you  not  grant  me  this  ?     In  spite  of  them 


1  The  name  of  a  rustic  dance. 

2  So  the  4tos. — Dyce  reads  "  shall." 

^  The  4tos.  read,  "  My  lord,  here  comes  the  king  and  the  nobles." 
Dyce  gives,  "  Here  comes  my  lord  the  king  and  the  nobles."  Mr. 
Fleay  arranges  the  passage  thus  : — 

"  Here  comes  my  lord 
The  king  and  th'  nobles  from  the  parliament. 
I'll  stand  aside." 


SCENE  I.]  Edward  the  Second.  123 

I'll  have  my  will ;  and  these  two  Mortimers, 
That  cross  me  thus,  shall  know  I  am  displeased. 

E.  Mor.  If  you  love  us,  my  lord,  hate  Gaveston. 

Gav.  That  villain  Mortimer,  I'll  be  his  death  !  {Aside. 

Y.  Mor.  Mine  uncle  here,  this  earl,  and  I  myself,    81 
Were  sworn  ^  to  your  father  at  his  death, 
That  he  should  ne'er  return  into  the  realm  : 
And  know,  my  lord,  ere  I  will  break  my  oath. 
This  sword  of  mine,  that  should  offend  your  foes. 
Shall  sleep  within  the  scabbard  at  thy  need, 
And  underneath  thy  banners  march  who  will,  "^ 

For  Mortimer  will  hang  his  armour  up. 

Gav.  Mort  dieu  !  [Aside. 

Edw.  Well,  Mortimer,  I'll  make  thee  rue  these  words. 
Beseems  it  thee  to  contradict  thy  king?  91 

Frdwn'st  thou  thereat,  aspiring  Lancaster  ?  - 
The  sword  shall  plane  the  furrows  of  thy  brows, 
And  hew  these  knees  that  now  are  grown  so  stiif. 
I  will  have  Gaveston  ;  and  you  shall  know 
What  danger  'tis  to  stand  against  your  king. 

Gav.  Well  done,  Ned  !  [Aside. 

Lan.  My  lord,  why  do  you  thus  incense  your  peers, 
That  naturally  would  love  and  honour  you 
But  for  that  base  and  obscure  Gaveston  ?  100 

Four  earldoms  have  I,  besides  Lancaster — 
Derby,  Salisbury,  Lincoln,  Leicester, 
These  will  I  sell,  to  give  my  soldiers  pay. 


^  Equivalent  to  a  dissyllable. 

2  Cf.  3  Henry  VI.,  v.  6,  "  aipiringhloo^  of  Lancaster." 


-  / 


1 24  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

Ere  Gaveston  shall  stay  within  the  realm  ; 
Therefore,  if  he  be  come,  expel  him  straight. 

Edw.  Barons   and  earls,  your   pride  hath  made  me 
mute ; 
But  now  I'll  speak,  and  to  the  proof,  I  hope. 
I  do  remember,  in  my  father's  days, 
Lord  Percy  of  the  north,  being  highly  moved, 
Braved  Moubery  ^  in  presence  of  the  king ;  no 

For  which,  had  not  his  highness  loved  him  well, 
He  should  have  lost  his  head  ;  but  with  his  look 
The  undaunted  spirit  of  Percy  was  appeased, 
/  And  Moubery  and  he  were  reconciled  : 

Yet  dare  you  brave  the  king  unto  his  face. — 
Brother,  revenge  it,  and  let  these  their  heads 
Preach  upon  poles,  for  trespass  of  their  tongues. 

War.  O,  our  heads  ! 

Edw.  Ay,  yours ;   and  therefore  I  would   wish   you 
grant — 

War.  Bridle  thy  anger,  gentle  Mortimer.  120 

Y.  Mor.  I  cannot,  nor  I  will  not ;  I  must  speak. 
Cousin,  our  hands  I  hope  shall  fence  our  heads, 
And  strike  off  his  that  makes  you  threaten  us. 
Come,  uncle,  let  us  leave  the  brain-sick  king. 
And  henceforth  parley  with  our  naked  swords. 

E.  Mor.  Wiltshire  hath  men  enough  to  save  our  heads. 

War.  All  Warwickshire  will  love  ^  him  for  my  sake. 


1  I  have  kept  the  form  found  in  ed.  1598,  as  a  trisyllable  is  here 
required. 

'  Dyce's  correction  "  leave"  seems  uimecessary.  Warwick  is  speak- 
ing ironically. 


SCENE  I.]  Edward  the  Second.  125 

Lan.  And  northward  Gaveston  ^  hath  many  friends. 
Adieu,  my  lord  ;  and  either  change  your  mind, 
Or  look  to  see  the  throne,  where  you  should  sit,  130 

To  float  in  blood  )  and  at  thy  wanton  head, 
The  glozing  head  of  thy  base  minion  thrown. 

\Exeunt  Nobles. 

Edw.  I  cannot  brook  these  haughty  menaces ; 
Am  I  a  king,  and  must  be  overruled  ? 
Brother,  display  my  ensigns  in  the  field ; 
I'll  bandy  2  with  the  barons  and  the  earls, 
And  either  die  or  live  with  Gaveston, 

Gav.  I  can  no  longer  keep  me  from  my  lord. 

[  Comes  forward. 

Edw.  What,  Gaveston !  welcome. — Kiss  not  my  hand — 
Embrace  me,  Gaveston,  as  I  do  thee.  140 

Why  should'st  thou   kneel  ?  know'st   thou   not   who    I 

am  ? 
Thy  friend,  thyself,  another  Gaveston  ! 
Not  Hylas  was  more  mourned  of  ^  Hercules, 
Than  thou  hast  been  of  me  since  thy  exile. 

Gav.  And  since  I  went  from  hence,  no  soul  in  hell 
Hath  felt  more  torment  than  poor  Gaveston. 

Edw.  I  know  it. — Brother,  welcome  home  my  friend. 
Now  let  the  treacherous  Mortimers  conspire, 
And  that  hisrh-minded  Earl  of  Lancaster : 


1  Dyce  altered  "Gaveston"  to  "  Lancaster  ;"  but  the  language  is 
ironicaL 

"  Fight,  contend.     The  word  is  borrowed  from  the  game  of  tennis. 

s  Ed.  1598,  "  moumedyor  Hercules."  Eds.  1612, 1622,  "  moumedybr 
0/" Hercules" — and  so  Dyce, 


■1 26  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

I  have  my  wish,  in  that  I  joy  thy  sight ;  '5° 

And  sooner  shall  the  sea  o'erwhelm  my  land, 
Than  bear  the  ship  that  shall  transport  thee  hence. 
I  here  create  thee  Lord  High  Chamberlain, 
Chief  Secretary  to  the  state  and  me, 
Earl  of  Cornwall,  King  and  Lord  of  Man. 

Gav.  My  lord,  these  titles  far  exceed  my  worth. 

Kent.  Brother,  the  least  of  these  may  well  sufifice 
For  one  of  greater  birth  than  Gaveston. 

Edw.  Cease,  brother :  for  I  cannot  brook  these  words. 
Thy  worth,  sweet  friend,  is  far  above  my  gifts,  i6o 

Therefore,  to  equal  it,  receive  my  heart ; 
If  for  these  dignities  thou  be  envied, 
I'll  give  thee  more  ;  for,  but  to  honour  thee, 
Is  Edward  pleased  with  kingly  regiment.^ 
Fear'st  thou  thy  person  ?  thou  shalt  have  a  guard. 
Wantest  thou  gold  ?  go  to  my  treasury. 
Wouldst  thou  be  loved  and  feared  ?  receive  my  seal ; 
Save  or  condemn,  and  in  our  name  command 
Whatso  thy  mind  affects,  or  fancy  likes. 

Gav.  It  shall  suffice  me  to  enjoy  your  love,  170 

Which  whiles  I  have,  I  think  myself  as  great 
As  Caesar  riding  in  the  Roman  street, 
With  captive  kings  at  his  triumphant  car. 

Enter  the  Bishop  of  Coventry. 
Edw.  Whither  goes  my  lord  of  Coventry  so  fast  ? 

1  Rule.     Cf.  I  Tamburlaine,  i.  i,  1.  119. 


SCENE  i]  Edward  the  Second.  127 

Bish.  To  celebrate  your  father's  exequies. 
But  is  that  wicked  Gaveston  returned  ? 

Edw.  Ay,  priest,  and  lives  to  be  revenged  on  thee, 
That  wert  the  only  cause  of  his  exile. 

Gav.  'Tis  true ;  and  but  for  reverence  of  these  robes, 
Thou  should'st  not  plod  one  foot  beyond  this  place.  180 

Bish.  I  did  no  more  than  I  was  bound  to  do ; 
And,  Gaveston,  unless  thou  be  reclaimed, 
As  then  I  did  incense  the  parliament, 
So  will  I  now,  and  thou  shalt  back  to  France. 

Gav.  Saving  your  reverence,  you  must  pardon  me. 

Edw.  Throw  off  his  golden  mitre,  rend  his  stole, 
And  in  the  channel  ^  christen  him  anew. 

Kent.  Ah,  brother,  lay  not  violent  hands  on  him, 
For  he'll  complain  unto  the  see  of  Rome. 

Gav.  Let  him  complain  unto  the  see  of  hell,  190 

I'll  be  revenged  on  him  for  my  exile. 

Ediv.  No,  spare  his  life,  but  seize  upon  his  goods  : 
Be  thou  lord  bishop  and  receive  his  rents, 
And  make  him  serve  thee  as  thy  chaplain  : 
I  give  him  thee — here,  use  him  as  thou  wilt. 

Gav.  He  shall  to  prison,  and  there  die  in  bolts. 

Edw.  Ay,  to  the  Tower,  the   Fleet,  or  where  thou 
wilt. 

Bish.  For  this  offence,  be  thou  accurst  of  God  ! 

Edw.  Who's  there  ?    Convey  this  priest  to  the  Tower. 

Bish.  True,  true.^  200 

1  Kennel,  gutter. 

2  Dyce    proposed  to  read    "Prut  prut!"  others  suppose  that  the 


128  Edward  the  Second.  [acti. 

Ediv.  But  in  the  meantime,  Gaveston,  away, 
And  take  possession  of  his  house  and  goods. 
Come,  follow  me,  and  thou  shalt  have  my  guard 
To  see  it  done,  and  bring  thee  safe  again. 

Gav.  AVhat  should  a  priest  do  with  so  fair  a  house  ? 
A  prison  may  best  ^  beseem  his  holiness. 

\Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 
Enter"-  loth  the  Mortimers,  Warwick,  ^w^ Lancaster. 

War,  'Tis  true,  the  bishop  is  in  the  Tower, 
And  goods  and  body  given  to  Gaveston. 

Lan.  What  !  will  they  tyrannise  upon  the  church? 
Ah,  wicked  king  !  accursed  Gaveston  ! 
This  ground,  which  is  corrupted  with  their  steps. 
Shall  be  their  timeless  ^  sepulchre  or  mine. 

Y.  Mor.  Well,  let  that  peevish  Frenchman  guard  him 
sure ; 
Unless  his  breast  be  sword-proof  he  shall  die. 

E.  Mor.  How  now,  why  droops  the  Earl  of  Lancaster  ? 

Y.  Mor.  Wherefore  is  Guy  of  Warwick  discontent  ?    lo 

La7i.  That  villain  Gaveston  is  made  an  earl. 

E.  Mor.  An  earl ! 

bishop  is  playing  on  the  word  "convey,"  which  was  a  cant  term  for 
"steal."     Cf.  Richard II.,  iv.  i,  1.  113: — 

' '  Bol.  Go,  some  of  you,  convey  him  to  the  Tower. 
King.  O  good  !  convey  !  conveyers  are  you  all." 
1  So  eds.  1612,  1622. — Ed.  1598  omits  "best." 
-  Scene :  Westminster. 
*  Untimely, 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  129 

War.  Ay,  and  besides  Lord  Chamberlain  of  the  reahn, 
And  Secretary  too,  and  Lord  of  Man. 

E.  Mor.  We  may  not,  nor  we  will  not  suffer  this. 

Y.  Mor.  Why  post  we  not  from  hence  to  levy  men  ? 

La7i.   "  My  Lord  of  Cornwall,"  now  at  every  word  ! 
And  happy  is  the  man  whom  he  vouchsafes, 
For  vailing  of  his  bonnet,  one  good  look. 
Thus,  arm  in  arm,  the  king  and  he  doth  march  :  20 

Nay  more,  the  guard  upon  his  lordship  waits ; 
And  all  the  court  begins  to  flatter  him. 

War.  Thus  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  the  king, 
He  nods  and  scorns,  and  smiles  at  those  that  pass. 

E.  Mor.  Doth  no  man  take  exceptions  at  the  slave  ? 

Lan.  All  stomach  ^  him,  but  none  dare  speak  a  word. 

Y.  Mor.  Ah,  that  bewrays  their  baseness,  Lancaster. 
Were  all  the  earls  and  barons  of  my  mind. 
We'd  2  hale  him  from  the  bosom  of  the  kmg, 
And  at  the  court-gate  hang  the  peasant  up ;  30 

Who,  swoln  with  venom  of  ambitious  pride, 
Will  be  the  ruin  of  the  realm  and  us. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  atid  a 
Messenger. 

War.  Here  comes  my  Lord  of  Canterbury's  grace. 
Lan.  His  countenance  bewrays  he  is  displeased. 
Archbish.   First  were  his  sacred  garments  rent  and  torn. 
Then  laid  they  violent  hands  upon  him  ;  next 

1  Are  angry  at  him.     We  have  the  word  again  later  in  the  play — 

"  I  know,  my  lord,  many  will  stomach  me." 

2  Old  eds.  "  Weele." 

VOL.  II.  I 


1 30  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

Himself  imprisoned,  and  his  goods  asseized  : 
This  certify  the  pope ; — away,  take  horse. 

\^Exit  Messenger. 

Lafi.  My  lord,  will  you  take  arms  against  the  king? 

Archbish.  What  need  I  ?  God  himself  is  up  in  arms,  40 
When  violence  is  offered  to  the  church. 

K  Mor.  Then  will  you  join  with  us,  that  be  his  peers, 
To  banish  or  behead  that  Gaveston  ? 

Archbish.  What  else,  my  lords  ?  for  it  concerns    me 
near ; — 
The  bishoprick  of  Coventry  is  his. 

Enter  Queen  Isabella. 

Y.  Mor.  Madam,  wliither  walks  your  majesty  so  fast  ? 

Queen.  Unto  the  forest,^  gentle  Mortimer, 
To  live  in  grief  and  baleful  discontent ; 
For  now,  my  lord,  the  king  regards  me  not, 
But  doats  upon  the  love  of  Gaveston.  50 

He  claps  his  cheek,  and  hangs  about  his  neck, 
Smiles  in  his  face,  and  whispers  in  his  ears ; 
And  when  I  come  he  frowns,  as  who  should  say, 
"  Go  whither  thou  wilt,  seeing  I  have  Gaveston." 

E.  Mor.  Is  it  not  strange  that  he  is  thus  bewitched  ? 

Y.  Mor.  Madam,  return  unto  the  court  again  : 
That  sly  inveigling  Frenchman  we'll  exile. 
Or  lose  our  lives  ;  and  yet,  ere  that  day  come, 


1  It  is  not  absolutely  necessary  to  suppose  that  tliere  is  an  allusion  to 
any  particular  forest.  What  the  queen  means  is  that  she  is  seeking 
solitude. 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  131 

The  king  shall  lose  his  crown  ;  for  we  have  power, 
And  courage  too,  to  be  revenged  at  full.  60 

Archbish.   But  yet  lift  not  your  swords  against  the  king. 

Lan.  No ;  but  we  will  lift  Gaveston  from  hence. 

War.  And  war  must  be  the  means,  or  he'll  stay  still. 

Queen.  Then  let  him  stay  ;   for  rather  than  my  lord 
Shall  be  oppressed  with  civil  mutinies, 
I  will  endure  a  melancholy  life, 
And  let  him  frolic  with  his  minion. 

Archbish.    My  lords,   to  ease  all  this,   but  hear  me 
speak  : — 
We  and  the  rest,  that  are  his  counsellors, 
Will  meet,  and  with  a  general  consent  70 

Confirm  his  banishment  with  our  hands  and  seals. 

Lan.  What  we  confirm  the  king  will  frustrate. 

Y.  Mor.  Then  may  we  lawfully  revolt  from  him. 

War.    But  say,  my  lord,  where  shall  this  meeting  be  ? 

Archbish.  At  the  New  Temple. 

Y.  Mor.  Content. 

\Archbish^    And,  in  the  meantime,  I'll  entreat  you  all 
To  cross  to  Lambeth,  and  there  stay  with  me. 

Lan.  Come  then,  let's  away. 

Y.  Mor.  Madam,  farewell !  80 

-  Queen.  Farewell,  sweet  Mortimer ;  and,  for  my  sake, 
Forbear  to  levy  arms  against  the  king. 

Y.  Mor.  Ay,  if  words  will  serve  ;  if  not,  I  must. 

\Exeunt. 


132  Edward  tJie  Second.  [act  i. 

SCENE  III. 
Enter'^  Gaveston  and  the  Earl  (5/ Kent. 

Gav.   Edmund,  the  mighty  prince  of  Lancaster, 
That  hath  more  earldoms  than  an  ass  can  bear. 
And  both  tlie  Mortimers,  two  goodly  men, 
With  Guy  of  Warwick,  that  redoubted  knight, 
Are  gone  toward  Lambeth — there  let  them  remain. 

\^Exeuiit. 

SCENE  IV. 

Enter"-  NoBLES  and  the  Archbishop  ^Canterbury. 

Lan.   Here  is  the  form  of  Gaveston's  exile  : 
May  it  please  your  lordship  to  subscribe  your  name. 

Archbish.  Give  me  the  paper. 

\IIe  subscribes^  as  the  others  do  after  him. 

Lan.  Quick,  quick,  my  lord ;  I  long  to  write  my  name. 

War.  But  I  long  more  to  see  him  banished  hence. 

Y.  Mor.  The  name  of  Mortimer  shall  fright  the  king. 
Unless  he  be  declined  from  that  base  peasant. 

Enter  the  King,  Gaveston,  and  Kent. 

Edw.  What,  are  you  moved  that  Gaveston  sits  here  ? 
It  is  our  pleasure,  and  we  will  have  it  so. 

1  Scene  :  a  street. 

-  Scene  :  the  New  Temple  (cf.  11.  74-5  of  scene  ii.).     At  the  entrance 
of  the  king  we  are  to  suppose  a  change  of  scene. 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  133 

Lan.  Your  grace  doth  well  to  place  him  by  your  side,  10 
For  nowhere  else  the  new  earl  is  so  safe. 

E.  Mor.  What   man   of  noble  birth  can  brook   this 
sight? 
Quani  male  co7iveniunt !  ^ 
See  what  a  scornful  look  the  peasant  casts  ! 

Fern.  Can  kingly  lions  fawn  on  creeping  ants  ? 

War    Ignoble  vassal,  that  like  Phaeton 
Aspir'st  unto  the  guidance  of  the  sun. 

K  Mor.  Their  downfall  is  at  hand,  their  forces  down  : 
We  will  not  thus  be  faced  and  over-peered. 

Edw.  Lay  hands  on  ^  that  traitor  Mortimer  !  20 

E.  Mor.   Lay  hands  on  that  traitor  Gaveston  ! 

Kent.   Is  this  the  duty  that  you  owe  your  king? 

War.  We  know  our  duties — let  him  know  his  peers. 

Edw.  Whither  will  you  bear  him  ?     Stay,  or  ye  shall 
die. 

E.  Mor.  We  are  no  traitors  ;  therefore  threaten  not. 

Gav.   No,  threaten  not,  my  lord,  but  pay  them  home  ! 
Were  I  a  king 

Y.  Mor.  Thou  villain,  wherefore  talk'st  thou  of  a  king, 
That  hardly  art  a  gentleman  by  birth? 

Edw.  Were  he  a  peasant,  being  my  minion,  30 

I'll  make  the  proudest  of  you  stoop  to  him. 

Laji.  My  lord,  you  may  not  thus  disparage  us. 
Away,  I  say,  with  hateful  Gaveston  ! 


1  "  Was  the  poet  thinking  of  Ovid,  '  Non  bene  conveniunt,'  &c.  Met. 
ii.  846?" — Dyce. 

2  Perhaps  we  should  read   "upon":  but   "traitor"  may  be  pro- 
nounced as  a  trisyllable  by  inserting  a  vowel  sound  before  the  first  r. 


134  Edward  tJie  Scco7id.  [act  i. 

E.  Mor.  And  with  tlie  Earl  of  Kent  that  favours  him. 
[Attendants  remove  Kent  and  Gaveston. 

Ediv.  Nay,  then,  lay  violent  hands  upon  your  king, 
Here,  Mortimer,  sit  thou  in  Edward's  throne  : 
Warwick  and  Lancaster,  wear  you  my  crown  : 
Was  ever  king  thus  over-ruled  as  I  ? 

Lan.  Learn  then  to  rule  us  better,  and  the  realm. 

K  Mor.  What  we  have  done,  our   heart-blood  shall 
maintain.  40 

War.  Think  you    that  we    can    brook  this    upstart 
pride  ? 

Edzv.  Anger  and  wrathful  fury  stops  my  speech. 

Archbish.  Why  are  you  moved  ?  be  patient,  my  lord, 
And  see  what  we  your  counsellors  have  done. 

Y.  Mor.  My  lords,  now  let  us  all  be  resolute, 
And  either  have  our  wills  or  lose  our  lives. 

EduK  Meet  you  for  this  ?  proud  overbearing  peers  ! 
Ere  my  sweet  Gaveston  shall  part  from  me, 
This  isle  shall  fleet  ^  upon  the  ocean, 
And  wander  to  the  unfrequented  Inde.  50 

Archbish.  You  know  that  I  am  legate  to  the  pope  ; 
On  your  allegiance  to  the  see  of  Rome, 
Subscribe,  as  we  have  done,  to  his  exile. 

Y.  Mor.  Curse  him,  if  he  refuse ;  and  then  may  we 
Depose  him  and  elect  another  king. 

Edw.  Ay,  there  it  goes — but  yet  I  will  not  yield  : 
Curse  me,  depose  me,  do  the  worst  you  can. 

Lan.  Then  linger  not,  my  lord,  but  do  it  straight. 

1  Float. 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second. 


OD 


Archbish.   Remember  how  the  bishop  was  abused  ! 
Either  banish  him  that  was  the  cause  thereof,  60 

Or  I  will  presently  discharge  these  lords  ^ 
Of  duty  and  allegiance  due  to  thee. 

Edw.  It  boots  me  not  to  threat — I  must  speak  fair  : 
The  legate  of  the  pope  will  be  obeyed.  \Aside. 

My  lord,  you  shall  be  Chancellor  of  the  realm ; 
Thou,  Lancaster,  High  Admiral  of  the  fleet; 
Young  Mortimer  and  his  uncle  shall  be  earls ; 
And  you,  Lord  Warwick,  President  of  the  North  ; 
And  thou  of  Wales.     If  this  content  you  not, 
Make  several  kingdoms  of  this  monarchy,  70 

And  share  it  equally  amongst  you  all. 
So  I  may  have  some  nook  or  corner  left, 
To  frolic  with  my  dearest  Gaveston. 

Archbish.  Nothing  shall  alter  us — we  are  resolved. 

Lan.   Come,  come,  subscribe. 

Y.  Mor.  Why  should  you  love  him  whom  the  world 
hates  so  ? 

Edw.  Because  he  loves  me  more  than  all  the  world. 
Ah,  none  but  rude  and  savage-minded  men 
Would  seek  the  ruin  of  my  Gaveston ; 
You  that  be  -  noble-born  should  pity  him.  80 

War.  You  that  are  princely-born  should  shake  him 
off: 
For  shame  subscribe,  and  let  the  lown  ^  depart. 


1  So  ed.  1612.— Ed.  1598  "  Lord." 

2  So  ed.  1598. — Ed.  1612  "are." 

3  Loon,  worthless  fellow. 


1 36  Edward  the  Second.  ,  [act  i. 

E.  Alor.  Urge  him,  my  lord. 

Archbish.  Are  you  content  to  banish  him  the  realm  ? 

Edw.  I  see  I  must,  and  therefore  am  content : 
Instead  of  ink  I'll  write  it  with  my  tears.         \_Subscribes. 

Y.  Mor.  The  king  is  love-sick  for  his  minion. 

Edw.  'Tis  done — and  now,  accurstid  hand,  fall  off! 

Lan.  Give  it  me — I'll  have  it  published  in  the  streets. 

Y.  Mor.  I'll  see  him  presently  despatched  away,       90 

Archbish.  Now  is  my  heart  at  ease. 

War.  And  so  is  mine. 

Pern.  This  will  be  good  news  to  the  common  sort. 

E.  Mor.  Be  it  or  no,  he  shall  not  linger  here. 

\_Exeunt  Nobles. 

Edw.  How  fast  they  run  to  banish  him  I  love  ! 
They  would  not  stir,  were  it  to  do  me  good. 
/Why  should  a  king  be  subject  to  a  priest? 
Proud  Rome  !  that  hatchest  such  imperial  grooms, 
For^  these  thy  superstitious  taper-lights. 
Wherewith  thy  antichristian  churches  blaze, 
I'll  fire  thy  crazed  buildings,  and  enforce  100 

The  papal  towers  to  kiss  the  lowly  ground  ! " 
With  slaughtered  priests  make^  Tiber's  channel  swell, 
And  banks  raised  higher  with  their  sepulchres  ! 


J-  So  ed.  1598. — Dyce  prints  "with,"  and  neglects — contrary  to  his 
custom — to  record  the  reading  of  the  earlier  copies. 

2  This   line  and  the  preceding  occur  with  shght  alteration  in  the 
Massacre  of  Paris  : — 

"  I'll  fire  his  crazed  buildings  and  incense 
The  papal  towers  to  kiss  the  holy  [sic]  earth." 

3  4tos.  "may." 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  137 

As  for  the  peers,  that  back  the  clergy  thus, 
If  I  be  king,  not  one  of  them  shall  live. 

Enter  Gaveston. 

Gav.  My  lord,  I  hear  it  whispered  everywhere, 
That  I  am  banished,  and  must  fly  the  land. 

Edw.  'Tis  true,  sweet  Gaveston — O  !  were  it  false  ! 
The  legate  of  the  Pope  will  have  it  so,  • 
And  thou  must  hence,  or  I  shall  be  deposed.  no 

But  I  will  reign  to  be  revenged  of  them ; 
And  therefore,  sweet  friend,  take  it  patiently. 
Live  where  thou  wilt,  I'll  send  thee  gold  enough  ; 
And  long  thou  shalt  not  stay,  or  if  thou  dost, 
I'll  come  to  thee;  my  love  shall  ne'er  decline. 

Gav.  Is  all  my  hope  turned  to  this  hell  of  grief? 

Edw.  Rend  not  my  heart  with  thy  too-piercing  words  : 
Thou  from  this  land,  I  from  myself  am  banished. 

Gav.  To  go  from  hence  grieves  not  poor  Gaveston  ; 
But  to  forsake  you,  in  whose  gracious  looks  120 

The  blessedness  of  Gaveston  remains  : 
For  nowhere  else  seeks  he  felicity. 

Edw.  And  only  this  torments  my  wretched  soul, 
That,  whether  I  will  or  no,  thou  must  depart. 
Be  governor  of  Ireland  in  my  stead. 
And  there  abide  till  fortune  call  thee  home. 
Here  take  my  picture,  and  let  me  wear  thine ; 

\They  exchange  pictures. 
O,  might  I  keep  thee  here  as  I  do  this, 
Happy  were  I !  but  now  most  miserable  ! 

Gav.  'Tis  som.ething  to  be  pitied  of  a  king.  130 


138  Ed'wa7'd  tJie  Second.  [act  i. 

Edw.  Thou  shalt  not  hence — I'll  hide  thee,  Gaveston. 

Gav.  I  shall  be  found,  and  then  'twill  grieve  me  more. 

Edw.  Kind  words,  and  mutual  talk  makes  our  grief 
greater : 
Therefore,  with  dumb  embraceraent,  let  us  part — 
Stay,  Gaveston,  I  cannot  leave  thee  thus. 

Gav.  For  every  look,  my  lord  ^  drops  down  a  tear : 
Seeing  I  must  go,  do  not  renew  my  sorrow. 

Edw.  The  time  is  little  that  thou  hast  to  stay, 
And,  therefore,  give  me  leave  to  look  my  fill : 
But  come,  sweet  friend,  I'll  bear  thee  on  thy  way.       140 

Gav.  The  peers  will  frown. 

Edw.  I  pass  *  not  for  their  anger — Come,  let's  go  ; 

0  that  we  might  as  well  return  as  go. 

Enter  Kent  ^  a7id  Queen  Isabel. 

Queen.  Whither  goes  my  lord  ? 

Edw.  Fawn  not  on  me,  French  strumpet !  get  thee 

gone. 
Queeti.  On  whom  but  on  my  husband  should  I  fawn  ? 
Gav.  On  Mortimer  !  with  whom,  ungentle  queen — 

1  say  no  more — judge  you  the  rest,  my  lord. 

Queen.  In  saying  this,  thou  wrong'st  me,  Gaveston  ; 
Is't  not  enough  that  thou  corrupt'st  my  lord,  150 

And  art  a  bawd  to  his  affections, 
But  thou  must  call  mine  honour  thus  in  question  ? 


1  So  the  old  copies. — Dyce  reads  "  My  love  drops  down  a  tear." 

2  Care. 

5  "The  entrance  of  Kent  seems  to  have  been  marked  here  by  mis- 
take."—Z^j^re. 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  139 

Gav.  I  mean  not  so ;  your  grace  must  pardon  me. 

Edii'.  Thou  art  too  familiar  with  that  INIortimer, 
And  by  thy  means  is  Gaveston  exiled ; 
But  I  would  wish  thee  reconcile  the  lords, 
Or  thou  shalt  ne'er  be  reconciled  to  me. 

Qtieeti.  Your  highness  knows  it  lies  not  in  ray  power. 

Edw.  Away  then  !  touch  me  not — Come,  Gaveston. 

Queen.  Villain!  'tis  thou  that  robb'st  me  of  my  lord.  160 

Gav.  Madam,  'tis  you  that  rob  me  of  my  lord. 

Edw.  Speak  not  unto  her ;  let  her  droop  and  pine. 

Queen.  Wherein,    my   lord,    have  I    deserved    these 
words  ? 
Witness  the  tears  that  Isabella  sheds. 
Witness  this  heart,  that  sighing  for  thee,  breaks, 
Howdear  my  lord  is  to  poor  Isabel. 

Edw.  And  witness  heaven  how  dear  thou  art  to  me : 
There  weep  :  for  till  my  Gaveston  be  repealed, 
Assure  thyself  thou  com'st  not  in  my  sight. 

[^Exeufit  Edward  and  Gaveston. 

Queen.  O  miserable  and  distressed  queen  !  170 

Would,  when  I  left  sweet  France  and  w^as  embarked, 
That  charming  Circe  ^  walking  on  the  waves. 
Had  changed  my  shape,  or  at  ^  the  marriage-day 
The  cup  of  Hymen  had  been  full  of  poison, 
Or  with  those  arms  that  twined  about  ray  neck 
I  had  been  stifled,  and  not  lived  to  see 
The  king  my  lord  thus  to  abandon  me  ! 


1  4tos.  "  Circes." 

2  So  ed.  1598. — Ed.  1612  "that. 


1 40  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

Like  frantic  Juno  will  I  fill  the  earth 

With  ghastly  murmur  of  my  sighs  and  cries  ; 

For  never  doated  Jove  on  Ganymede  iSo 

So  much  as  he  on  cursed  Gaveston  : 

But  that  will  more  exasperate  his  wrath  : 

I  must  entreat  him,  I  must  speak  him  fair, 

And  be  a  means  to  call  home  Gaveston  : 

And  yet  he'll  ever  doat  on  Gaveston : 

And  so  am  I  for  ever  miserable. 

Enter  the  Nobles. 

Lan.  Look  where  the  sister  of  the  king  of  France 
Sits  wringing  of  her  hands,  and  beats  her  breast ! 

War.  The  king,  I  fear,  hath  ill-entreated  her. 

Pern.   Hard  is  the  heart  that  injuries^  such  a  saint.  190 

Y.  Mor.  I  know  'tis  'long  of  Gaveston  she  weeps. 

E.  Mor.  Why,  he  is  gone. 

Y.  Mor.  Madam,  how  fares  your  grace? 

Queen.  Ah,  Mortimer !  now  breaks  the  king's  hate  forth, 
And  he  confesseth  that  he  loves  me  not. 

Y.  Mor.  Cry  quittance,  madam,  then ;  and  love  not 
him. 

Queen.  No,  rather  will  I  die  a  thousand  deaths  : 
And  yet  I  love  in  vain — he'll  ne'er  love  me. 

Lan.  Fear  ye  not,  madam  ;  now  his  minion's  gone, 
His  wanton  humour  will  be  quickly  left 

Queen.  O  never,  Lancaster  !  I  am  enjoined  200 

To  sue  upon  you  all  for  his  repeal ; 

^  So  ed.  1598. — Dyce  (who  retains  the  verb  "  injury"  in  i   Tambur- 

laine,  i.  i)  prints  silently  "  injures." 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  141 

This  wills  my  lord,  and  this  must  I  perform, 
Or  else  be  banished  from  his  highness'  presence. 

Lan.   For  his  repeal,  madam  !  he  comes  not  back, 
Unless  the  sea  cast  up  his  shipwrecked  body. 

War.  And  to  behold  so  sweet  a  sight  as  that. 
There's  none  here  but  would  run  his  horse  to  death, 

Y.  Mor.  But,   madam,   would  you  have  us  call  him 
home? 
''^'  Queen.  Ay,  Mortimer,  for  till  he  be  restored. 
The  angry  king  hath  banished  me  the  court;  210 

And,  therefore,  as  thou  lov'st  and  tender'st  me, 
Be  thou  my  advocate  unto  these  peers. 

Y.  Mor.  What !  would  you  have  me  plead  for  Gave- 
ston? 
.  E.  Mor.  Plead  for  him  that  will,  I  am  resolved. 

Lan.  And  so  am  I,  my  lord  :  dissuade  the  queen. 

Queen.  O  Lancaster  !  let  him  dissuade  the  king, 
For  'tis  against  my  will  he  should  return. 

War.  Then  speak  not  for  him,  let  the  peasant  go. 

Queen.  'Tis  for  myself  I  speak,  and  not  for  him. 

Pern.  No  speaking  will  prevail,^  and  therefore  cease.  220 

K  Mor.  Fair  queen,  forbear  to  angle  for  the  fish 
Which,  being  caught,  strikes  him  that  takes  it  dead  ; 
I  mean  that  vile  torpedo,  Gaveston, 
That  now,  I  hope,  floats  on  the  Irish  seas. 

Quee?i.  Sweet  Mortimer,  sit  down  by  me  awhile, 
And  I  will  tell  thee  reasons  of  such  weight 
As  thou  wilt  soon  subscribe  to  his  repeal. 

Y.  Mor.   It  is  impossible  ;  but  speak  your  mind. 

1  Avail. 


142  Edivard  the  Second.  [act  i. 

Queen.  Then  thus,  but  none  shall  hear  it  but  ourselves. 

{Talks  to  Y.  MoR.  apart. 

Lan.  My  lords,  albeit  the  queen  win  Mortimer,       230 
Will  you  be  resolute,  and  hold  with  me? 

E.  Mor.   Not  I,  against  my  nephew. 

Pern.  Fear  not,  the  queen's  words  cannot  alter  him. 

War.  No?  do  but  mark  how  earnestly  she  pleads  ! 

Lan.  And  see  how  coldly  his  looks  make  denial ! 

War.  She  smiles  ;  now  for  my  life  his  mind  is  changed  ! 

Lan.  I'll  rather  lose  his  friendship,  I,  than  grant. 

Y.  Mor.  Well,  of  necessity  it  must  be  so. 
My  lords,  that  I  abhor  base  Gaveston, 
I  hope  your  honours  make  no  question,  240 

And  therefore,  though  I  plead  for  his  repeal, 
'Tis  not  for  his  sake,  but  for  our  avail ; 
Nay  for  the  realm's  behoof,  and  for  the  king's. 

Lan.  Fie,  Mortimer,  dishonour  not  thyself! 
Can  this  be  true,  'twas  good  to  banish  him? 
And  is  this  true,  to  call  him  home  again  ? 
Such  reasons  make  white  black,  and  dark  night  day. 
Y.  Mor.  My  lord  of  Lancaster,  mark  the  respect.'^ 

Lati.  In  no  respect  can  contraries  be  true. 

Queen,  Yet,  good  my  lord,  hear  what  he  can  allege.  250 
War.  All  that  he  speaks  is  nothing  ;  we  are  resolved. 
Y.  Mor.  Do  you  not  wish  that  Gaveston  were  dead  ? 

Pern.  I  would  he  were. 

Y.  Mor.  Why  then,  my  lord,  give  me  but  leave  to  speak. 

1  Regard,  consideration.    Cf.  Hamlet — 

"  There's  the  respect 
That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life." 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  143 

E.  Mor.  But,  nephew,  do  not  play  the  sophister. 

Y.  Mor.  This  which  I  urge  is  of  a  burning  zeal 
To  mend  the  king,  and  do  our  country  good. 
Know  you  not  Gaveston  hath  store  of  gold, 
Which  may  in  Ireland  purchase  him  such  friends 
As  he  will  front  the  mightiest  of  us  all  ?  260 

And  whereas  he  shall  live  and  be  beloved, 
Tis  hard  for  us  to  work  his  overthrow. 

War.  Mark  you  but  that,  my  lord  of  Lancaster. 

Y.  Mor.  But  were  he  here,  detested  as  he  is, 
How  easily  might  some  base  slave  be  suborned 
To  greet  his  lordship  with  a  poniard. 
And  none  so  much  as  blame  the  murderer, 
But  rather  praise  him  for  that  brave  attempt, 
And  in  the  chronicle  enrol  his  name 
For  purging  of  the  realm  of  such  a  plague  !  270 

Pern.  He  saith  true. 

Lan.  Ay,  but  how  chance  this  was  not  done  before  ? 

Y.  Mor.  Because,  my  lords,  it  was  not  thought  upon. 
Nay,  more,  when  he  shall  know  it  lies  in  us 
To  banish  him,  and  then  to  call  him  home, 
'Twill  make  him  vail  ^  the  top-flag  of  his  pride, 
And  fear  to  offend  the  meanest  nobleman. 

E.  Mor.  But  how  if  he  do  not,  nephew  ? 

Y.  Mor.  Then  may  we  with  some  colour  rise  in  arms  ; 
For  howsoever  we  have  borne  it  out,  2S0 

'Tis  treason  to  be  up  against  the  king ; 
So  we  shall  have  the  people  of  our  side, 

1  Lower. 


144  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

Which  for  his  father's  sake  lean  to  the  king, 

But  cannot  brook  a  night-grown  mushroom, 

Such  a  one  as  my  lord  of  Cornwall  is, 

Should  bear  us  down  of  the  nobility. 

And  when  the  commons  and  the  nobles  join, 

'Tis  not  the  king  can  buckler  Gaveston  ; 

We'll  pull  him  from  the  strongest  hold  he  hath. 

My  lords,  if  to  perform  this  I  be  slack,  290 

Think  me  as  base  a  groom  as  Gaveston. 

Lan.  On  that  condition,  Lancaster  will  grant. 
War.  And  so  will  Pembroke  and  I. 

E.  Mor.  And  I. 

K  Mor.   In  this  I  count  me  highly  gratified, 
And  Mortimer  will  rest  at  your  command. 

Queen.  And  when  this  favour  Isabel  forgets, 
Then  let  her  live  abandoned  and  forlorn. 
But  see,  in  happy  time,  my  lord  the  king. 
Having  brought  the  Earl  of  Cornwall  on  his  way,        300 
Is  new  returned ;  this  news  will  glad  him  much ; 
Yet  not  so  much  as  me ;  I  love  him  more 
Than  he  can  Gaveston  ;  would  he  love  me 
But  half  so  much,  then  were  I  treble-blessed  ! 

Enter  King  Edward,  mourning. 

Edw.  He's  gone,  and  for  his  absence  thus  I  mourn. 
Did  never  sorrow  go  so  near  my  heart 
As  doth  the  want  of  my  sweet  Gaveston  ; 
And  could  my  crown's  revenue  bring  him  back, 
I  would  freely  give  it  to  his  enemies. 
And  think  I  gained,  having  bought  so  dear  a  friend.   310 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  1 4  5 

Queen.  Hark  !  how  he  harps  upon  his  minion. 

Edw.  My  heart  is  as  an  anvil  unto  sorrow, 
Which  beats  upon  it  like  the  Cyclops'  hammers, 
And  with  the  noise  turns  up  my  giddy  brain. 
And  makes  me  frantic  for  my  Gaveston. 
Ah  !  had  some  bloodless  fury  rose  from  hell, 
And  with  my  kingly  sceptre  struck  me  dead, 
When  I  was  forced  to  leave  my  Gaveston  ! 

Lmi.  Diablo  !  what  passions  call  you  these  ? 

Queen.  My  gracious  lord,  I  come  to  bring  you  news.  320 

Ediv.  That  you  have  parled  with  your  Mortimer  ? 

Queen.  That  Gaveston,  my  lord,  shall  be  repealed. 

Edw.  Repealed  !  the  news  is  too  sweet  to  be  true  ! 

Queen.  But  will  you  love  me,  if  you  find  it  so  ? 

Edw.  If  it  be  so,  what  will  not  Edward  do  ? 

Quee7i.   For  Gaveston,  but  not  for  Isabel. 

Edzv.  For  thee,  fair  queen,  if  thou  lov'st  Gaveston ; 
I'll  hang  a  golden  tongue  about  thy  neck. 
Seeing  thou  hast  pleaded  with  so  good  success. 

Queen.  No  other  jewels  hang  about  my  neck  330 

Than  these,  my  lord  ;  nor  let  me  have  more  wealth 
Than  I  may  fetch  from  this  rich  treasury — 
O  how  a  kiss  revives  poor  Isabel ! 

Edw.  Once  more  receive  my  hand  ;  and  let  this  be 
A  second  marriage  'twixt  thyself  and  me.  y^ 

Queen.  And  may  it  prove  more  happy  than  the  first ! 
My  gentle  lord,  bespeak  these  nobles  fair. 
That  wait  attendance  for  a  gracious  look, 
And  on  their  knees  salute  your  majesty. 

Edw.  Courageous  Lancaster,  embrace  thy  king ;      340 

VOL.   II.  K 


1 46  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

And,  as  gross  vapours  perish  by  the  sun, 
Even  so  let  hatred  with  thy  sovereign's  ^  smile. 
Live  thou  with  me  as  my  companion. 

Lan.  This  salutation  overjoys  my  heart. 

Edw.  Warwick  shall  be  my  chiefest  counsellor  : 
These  silver  hairs  will  more  adorn  my  court 
Than  gaudy  silks,  or  rich  embroidery. 
Chide  me,  sweet  Warwick,  if  I  go  astray. 

War.  Slay  me,  my  lord,  when  I  offend  your  grace. 

Edw.  In  solemn  triumphs,  and  in  public  shows,      350 
Pembroke  shall  bear  the  sword  before  the  king. 

Pern.   And  with  this  sword   Pembroke  will  fight  for 
you. 

Edw.  But  wherefore  walks  young  Mortimer  aside  ? 
Be  thou  commander  of  our  royal  fleet ; 
Or,  if  that  lofty  office  like  thee  not, 
I  make  thee  here  Lord  Marshal  of  the  realm. 

Y.  Mor.  My  lord,  I'll  marshal  so  your  enemies. 
As  England  shall  be  quiet,  and  you  safe. 

Edw.  And  as  for  you.  Lord  Mortimer  of  Chirke, 
Whose  great  achievements  in  our  foreign  war  360 

Deserves  no  common  place,  nor  mean  reward  ; 
Be  you  the  general  of  the  levied  troops, 
That  now  are  ready  to  assail  the  Scots. 

E.  Mor.  In  this  your  grace  hath  highly  honoured  me, 
For  with  my  nature  war  doth  best  agree. 

Queen.  Now  is  the  king  of  England  rich  and  strong, 
Having  the  love  of  his  renowned  peers. 

1  So  ed.  1612. — Ed.  1598  "  soueraigne." 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  147 

Edw.  Ay,  Isabel,  ne'er  was  my  heart  so  light. 
Clerk  of  the  crown,  direct  our  warrant  forth 
For  Gaveston  to  Ireland :  [Enter  Beaumont  wM  war- 
ranti\     Beaumont,  fly  37° 

As  fast  as  Iris  or  Jove's  Mercury. 

Bea.  It  shall  be  done,  my  gracious  lord. 

Edw,  Lord  Mortimer,  we  leave  you  to  your  charge. 
Now  let  us  in,  and  feast  it  royally. 
Against  our  friend  the  Earl  of  Cornwall  comes, 
We'll  have  a  general  tilt  and  tournament ; 
And  then  his  marriage  shall  be  solemnised. 
For  wot  you  not  that  I  have  made  him  sure  ^ 
Unto  our  cousin,  the  Earl  of  Gloucester's  heir  ? 

La7i.  Such  news  we  hear,  my  lord.  3^° 

Edw.  That  day,  if  not  for  him,  yet  for  my  sake, 
Who  in  the  triumph  will  be  challenger, 
Spare  for  no  cost ;  we  will  requite  your  love. 

War.  In  this,  or  aught  your  highness  shall  command 
us. 

Edw.  Thanks,  gentle  Warwick  :    come,  let's  in  and 
revel.     [Exeunt.     Manent  the  Mortimers. 

E.  Mor.  Nephew,  I  must  to  Scotland  ;  thou  stayest 
here. 
Leave  now  t'oppose  thyself  against  the  king. 
Thou  seest  by  nature  he  is  mild  and  calm, 
And,  seeing  his  mind  so  doats  on  Gaveston, 
Let  him  without  controulment  have  his  will.         /      39° 
The  mightiest  kings  have  had  their  minions 


/ 


1  Aflaanced  him. 


148  Edward  the  Second.  [act  i. 

Great  Alexander  loved  Hephestion  ; 

The  conquering  Hercules  ^  for  his  Hylas  wept ; 

And  for  Patroclus  stern  Achilles  drooped. 

And  not  kings  only,  but  the  wisest  men  : 

The  Roman  TuUy  loved  Octavius  ; 

Grave  Socrates  wild  Alcibiades. 

Then  let  his  grace,  whose  youth  is  flexible, 

And  promiseth  as  much  as  we  can  wish, 

Freely  enjoy  that  vain,  light-headed  earl ;  400 

For  riper  years  will  wean  him  from  such  toys. 

Y.  Mor.  Uncle,  his  wanton  humour  grieves  not  me ; 
But  this  I  scorn,  that  one  so  basely  born 
Should  by  his  sovereign's  favour  grow  so  pert, 
And  riot  it  with  the  treasure  of  the  realm. 
While  soldiers  mutiny  for  want  of  pay, 
He  wears  a  lord's  revenue  on  his  back,^ 
And  Midas-like,  he  jets  it  in  the  court, 
With  base  outlandish  cuUions  ^  at  his  heels, 
Whose  proud  fantastic  liveries  make  such  show,  4'° 

As  if  that  Proteus,  god  of  shapes,  appeared. 
I  have  not  seen  a  dapper  Jack  so  brisk  ; 
He  wears  a  short  Italian  hooded  cloak, 
Larded  with  pearl,  and,  in  his  Tuscan  cap, 
A  jewel  of  more  value  than  the  crown. 
While  other*  walk  below,  the  king  and  he 

1  Eds.  1598,  1612,  "Hector."     Ed.  1622  "The  conquering  Hector 
did  for  Hilas  weepe." 

2  Cf.  2  Henry  VI.,  i.  3  : — 

"  She  bears  a  duke's  revenue  on  her  back," 

3  Worthless  fellows. 

♦  So  eds.  1598.— Later  eds."  others." 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  149 

From  out  a  window  laugh  at  such  as  we, 

And  flout  our  train,  and  jest  at  our  attire. 

Uncle,  'tis  this  makes  me  impatient.  419 

E.  Mor.  But,  nephew,  now  you  see  the  king  is  changed. 

Y.  Mor.  Then  so  am  I,  and  live  to  do  him  service  : 
But  whiles  I  have  a  sword,  a  hand,  a  heart, 
I  will  not  yield  to  any  such  upstart. 
You  know  my  mind ;  come,  uncle,  let's  away.    \Exeunt. 


(     150    ) 


/ 


ACT  THE  SECOND. 

SCENE  I. 

Enter^  Young  Spencer  and  Baldock. 

Bald.  Spencer, 
Seeing  that  our  lord  the  Earl  of  Gloucester's  dead, 
Which  of  the  nobles  dost  thou  mean  to  serve  ? 

Y.  Spen.  Not  Mortimer,  nor  any  of  his  side; 
Because  the  king  and  he  are  enemies. 
Baldock,  learn  this  of  me,  a  factious  lord 
Shall  hardly  do  himself  good,  much  less  us  ; 
But  he  that  hath  the  favour  of  a  king, 
May  with  one  word  advance  us  while  we  live  : 
The  liberal  Earl  of  Cornwall  is  the  man  lo 

On  whose  good  fortune  Spencer's  hope  depends. 

Bald.  What,  mean  you  then  to  be  his  follower? 

Y.  Spen.  No,  his  companion ;  for  he  loves  me  well, 
And  would  have  once  preferred  me  to  the  king. 

Bald.  But  he  is  banished ;  there's  small  hope  of  him. 

Y.  Spen.  Ay,  for  a  while  ;  but,  Baldock,  mark  the  end. 
A  friend  of  mine  told  me  in  secrecy 

1  Scene  :  a  hall  in  Gloucester's  mansion. 


SCENE  I.]  Edward  the  Second.  151 

That  he's  repealed,  and  sent  for  back  agam ; 

And  even  now  a  post  came  from  the  court 

With  letters  to  our  lady  from  the  king ;  20 

And  as  she  read  she  smiled,  which  makes  me  think 

It  is  about  her  lover  Gaveston. 

Bald.  'Tis  like  enough  ;  for  since  he  was  exiled 
She  neither  walks  abroad,  nor  comes  in  sight. 
But  I  had  thought  the  match  had  been  broke  off, 
And  that  his  banishment  had  changed  her  mind. 
Y.  Spen.  Our  lady's  first  love  is  not  wavering  ; 
My  life  for  thine  she  will  have  Gaveston. 

Bald.  Then  hope  I  by  her  means  to  be  preferred. 
Having  read  unto  her  since  she  was  a  child.  30 

K  Spen.  Then,  Baldock,  you  must  cast  the  scholar  off, 
And  learn  to  court  it  Uke  a  gentleman. 
'Tis  not  a  black  coat  and  a  little  band, 
A  velvet-caped  coat,  faced  before  with^serge, 
And  smelling  to  a  nosegay  all  the  day, 
Or  holding  of  a  napkin  in  your  hand, 
Or  saying  a  long  grace  at  a  table's  end. 
Or  making  low  legs  to  a  nobleman. 
Or  looking  downward  with  your  eyelids  close, 
And  saying,  "  Truly,  an't  may  please  your  honour,"      40 
Can  get  you  any  favour  with  great  men ; 
You  must  be  proud,  bold,  pleasant,  resolute, 
And  now  and  then  stab,  as  occasion  serves. 

Bald.  Spencer,  thou  know'st  I  hate  such  formal  toys, 
And  use  them  but  of  mere  hypocrisy. 
Mine  old  lord  whiles  he  lived  was  so  precise. 
That  he  would  take  exceptions  at  my  buttons, 


152  Edward  the  Second.  [act  n. 

And  being  like  pins'  heads,  blame  me  for  the  bigness ; 

Which  made  me  curate-like  in  mine  attire, 

Though  inwardly  licentious  enough,  50 

And  apt  for  any  kind  of  villainy. 

I  am  none  of  these  common  pedants,  I, 

That  cannot  speak  without  propterea  quod. 

Y.  Spen.  But  one  of  those  that  saith,  qiiandoquidem^ 
And  hath  a  special  gift  to  form  a  verb. 

Bald.  Leave  off  this  jesting^  here  my  lady  comes. 

Enter  the  Lady. 

Lady.  The  grief  for  his  exile  was  not  so  much, 
As  is  the  joy  of  his  returning  home. 
This  letter  came  from  my  sweet  Gaveston  : 
What  need'st  thou,  love,  thus  to  excuse  thyself?  60 

I  know  thou  could'st  not  come  and  visit  me  : 
/  will  not  long  be  from  thee,  though  I  die.  \Reads. 

This  argues  the  entire  love  of  my  lord ; 
WJien  I  forsake  thee,  death  seize  on  my  heart :         [I^eads. 
But  stay  ^  thee  here  where  Gaveston  shall  sleep. 
Now  to  the  letter  of  my  lord  the  king. — 
He  wills  me  to  repair  unto  the  court, 
And  meet  my  Gaveston  ?  why  do  I  stay. 
Seeing  that  he  talks  thus  of  my  marriage-day  ? 
Who's  there  ?  Baldock  !  70 

See  that  my  coach  be  ready,  I  must  hence. 

Bald.  It  shall  be  done,  madam.  [Exit. 

Lady.  And  meet  me  at  the  park-pale  presently. 

^  So  ed.  1612. — Omitted  in  ed.  1598. 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  153 

Spencer,  stay  you  and  bear  me  company, 
For  I  have  joyful  news  to  tell  thee  of; 
My  lord  of  Cornwall  is  a  coming  over, 
And  will  be  at  the  court  as  soon  as  we. 

Spen.  I  knew  the  king  would  have  him  home  again. 

Lady.  If  all  things  sort  out,  as  I  hope  they  will, 
Thy  service,  Spencer,  shall  be  thought  upon.  80 

Spen.  I  humbly  thank  your  ladyship. 

Lady.  Come,  lead  the  way  ;  I  long  till  I  am  there. 

\Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 

Enter'^  Edward,  t}ie  Queen,  Lancaster,  Young  Mor- 
timer, Warwick,  Pembroke,  Kent,  and  Attendants. 

Edw.  The  wind  is  good,  I  wonder  why  he  stays  ; 
I  fear  me  he  is  wrecked  upon  the  sea. 

Quee?i.  Look,  Lancaster,  how  passionate  he  is. 
And  still  his  mind  runs  on  his  minion  ! 

Lan.  My  lord. 

Edw.  How  now  !  what  news  ?  is  Gaveston  arrived  ? 

Y.  Mor.   Nothing  but  Gaveston !   what  means  your 
grace  ? 
You  have  matters  of  more  weight  to  think  upon  ; 
The  King  of  France  sets  foot  in  Normandy. 

Edw.  A  trifle  !  we'll  expel  him  when  we  please.        10 
But  tell  me,  Mortimer,  what's  thy  device 
Against  the  stately  triumph  we  decreed  ? 

1  Scene :  before  Tynemouth  Castle, 


154  Edward  the  Second.  [act  n. 

K  Mor.  A  homely  one,  my  lord,  not  worth  the  telling. 

Edw.  Pray  thee  let  me  know  it. 

K  Mor.  But,  seeing  you  are  so  desirous,  thus  it  is  : 
A  lofty  cedar-tree,  fair  flourishing, 
On  whose  top-branches  kingly  eagles  perch. 
And  by  the  bark  a  canker  creeps  me  up, 
And  gets  into  the  highest  bough  of  all : 
The  motto,  ^que  tandem.  20 

Edw.  And  what  is  yours,  my  lord  of  Lancaster  ? 

Lan.  My  lord,  mine's  more  obscure  than  Mortimer's. 
Pliny  ^  reports  there  is  a  ^  flying  fish 
Which  all  the  other  fishes  deadly  hate, 
And  therefore,  being  pursued,  it  takes  the  air  : 
No  sooner  is  it  up,  but  there's  a  fowl 
That  seizeth  it :  this  fish,  my  lord,  I  bear. 
The  motto  this  :  Undiqiie  mors  est. 

Kent.^  Proud  Mortimer !  ungentle  Lancaster ! 
Is  this  the  love  you  bear  your  sovereign  ?  30 

Is  this  the  fruit  your  reconcilement  bears  ? 


1  Reed  refers  to  Pliny's  Nat.  Hist.,  ix.  19;  but  Pliny  merely  says 
that  the  exocoetus  would  leap  on  to  a  rocky  ledge  in  warm  weather  and 
there  bask  in  the  sun.  It  is  curious  that  Dyce,  who  was  such  an 
enthusiast  for  Athenseus,  did  not  refer  his  readers  to  the  account  of  the 
exocoetus  quoted  from  Clearchus  in  DcipJios.  viii.  5.  According  to  this 
authority  the  fish,  when  basking  on  the  ledge,  has  to  be  constantly  on 
his  guard  against  king-fishers  and  the  hke,  and  when  he  sees  them 
afar,  flies  leaping  and  gasping  until  he  dives  under  the  water.  Perhaps 
Marlowe  had  in  his  mind  some  embeUished  account  that  he  had  found 
in  Gesner  or  Bellonius, 

2  So  ed.  1612. — Omitted  in  ed.  1598. 

*  Old  eds,  "  Edw."  (a  misprint  for  "  Edm." — the  prefix  in  the  4tos, 
to  Kent's  speeches.) 


SCENE  11.]  Edward  the  Second.  155 

Can  you  in  words  make  show  of  amity, 

And  in  your  shields  display  your  rancorous  minds  ! 

What  call  you  this  but  private  libelling 

Against  the  Earl  of  Cornwall  and  my  brother  ? 

Queen.  Sweet  husband,  be  content,  they  all  love  you. 

Edw.  They  love  me  not  that  hate  my  Gaveston. 
I  am  that  cedar,  shake  me  not  too  much ; 
And  you  the  eagles  ;  soar  ye  ne'er  so  high, 
I  have  the  jesses  ^  that  will  pull  you  down  j  40 

And  ^que  tandem  shall  that  canker  cry 
Unto  the  proudest  peer  of  Britainy. 
Though  thou  compar'st  him  to  a  flying  fish, 
And  threatenest  death  whether  he  rise  or  fall, 
'Tis  not  the  hugest  monster  of  the  sea, 
Nor  foulest  harpy  that  shall  swallow  him. 

Y.  Mor.  If  in  his  absence  thus  he  favours  him, 
What  will  he  do  whenas  he  shall  be  present  ? 

Lan.  That  shall  we  see ;  look  where  his  lordship  comes. 

Enter  Gaveston. 

Edw.  My  Gaveston  !  50 

Welcome  to  Tynemouth  !  welcome  to  thy  friend  ! 
Thy  absence  made  me  droop  and  pine  away ; 
For,  as  the  lovers  of  fair  Danae, 
When  she  was  locked  up  in  a  brazen  tower. 
Desired  her  more,  and  waxed  outrageous, 
So  did  it  fare  ^  with  me  :  and  now  thy  sight 

1  Oldeds.  "  gresses"  (for  "gesses.") — "Jesses"  were  the  straps  round 
a  hawk's  legs,  with  rings  (called  "  varvels  ")  to  which  the  falconer's  leash 
was  attached, 

2  Seed.  1622. — Eds.  1598,  1612,  "sure," 


156  Edward  the  Secojid.  [act  n. 

Is  sweeter  far  than  was  thy  parting  hence 
Bitter  and  irksome  to  my  sobbing  heart. 

GatK  Sweet  lord  and  king,  your  speech  preventeth  mine, 
Yet  have  I  words  left  to  express  my  joy  :  60 

The  shepherd  nipt  with  biting  winter's  rage 
Frolics  not  more  to  see  the  painted  spring, 
Than  I  do  to  behold  your  majesty. 

Edw.  Will  none  of  you  salute  my  Gaveston  ? 

Lan.  Salute  him  ?  yes  ;  welcome,  Lord  Chamberlain ! 

Y.  Mor.  Welcome  is  the  good  Earl  of  Cornwall ! 

War.  Welcome,  Lord  Governor  of  the  Isle  of  Man  ! 

Pern.  Welcome,  Master  Secretary  ! 

Kent.  Brother,  do  you  hear  them  ? 

Edw.  Still  will  these  earls  and  barons  use  me  thus.  70 

Gav.  My  lord,  I  cannot  brook  these  injuries. 

Queen.  Ay  me,  poor  soul,  when  these  begin  to  jar. 

\Aside. 

Edw.  Return  it  to  their  throats,  I'll  be  thy  warrant. 

Gav.  Base,  leaden  earls,  that  glory  in  your  birth, 
Go  sit  at  home  and  eat  your  tenants'  beef; 
And  come  not  here  to  scoff  at  Gaveston, 
Whose  mounting  thoughts  did  never  creep  so  low 
As  to  bestow  a  look  on  such  as  you. 

Lan.  Yet  I  disdain  not  to  do  this  for  you.       \^Draws. 

Edw.  Treason  !  treason  !  where's  the  traitor  ?  80 

Pem.  Here  !  here  !  king.^ 

1  Old  eds.  read  : — 
"Pem.  Here,   here,  king:   convey  hence  Gaveston,  thaile  murder 
him." 
I  have  followed  Dyce  in  giving  the  line  "Convey  hence  Gaveston, 


SCENE  11.]  Edward  the  Second.  157 

[£dw.]  Convey  hence  Gaveston  ;  they'll  murder  him. 

Gav.  The  life  of  thee  shall  salve  this  foul  disgrace. 

V.  Mor.  Villain !  thy  life,  unless  I  miss  mine  aim. 

\Offers  to  stab  him. 

Queen.  Ah  !  furious  Mortimer,  what  hast  thou  done  ? 

Y.  Mor.  No  more  than  I  would  answer,  were  he  slain. 
\Exit  Gaveston  with  Attendants. 

Edw.  Yes,  more  than  thou  canst  answer,  though  he  live  ; 
Dear  shall  you  both  abide  this  riotous  deed. 
Out  of  my  presence  !  come  not  near  the  court. 

Y.  Mor.  I'll  not  be  barred  the  court  for  Gaveston.    90 

Lan.  We'll  hale  him  by  the  ears  unto  the  block. 

Edw.  Look  to  your  own  heads  ;  his  is  sure  enough. 
War.  Look  to  your  own  crown,  if  you  back  him  thus. 

Kent.  Warwick,  these  words  do  ill  beseem  thy  years. 

Edw.  Nay,  all  of  them  conspire  to  cross  me  thus  ; 
But  if  I  live,  I'll  tread  upon  their  heads 
That  think  with  high  looks  thus  to  tread  me  down. 
Come,  Edmund,  let's  away  and  levy  men, 
'Tis  war  that  must  abate  these  barons'  pride. 

\^Exeunt  t/ie  King,  Queen,  and  Kent. 

War.  Let's  to  our  castles,  for  the  king  is  moved.     100 

Y.  Mor.  Moved  may  he  be,  and  perish  in  his  wrath  ! 

Lan.  Cousin,  it  is  no  dealing  with  him  now. 
He  means  to  make  us  stoop  by  force  of  arms ; 
And  therefore  let  us  jointly  here  protest, 
To  prosecute  that  Gaveston  to  the  death. 

&c.,"  to  the  king ;  but  I  do  not  agree  with  him  in  regarding  "  king  "  as 
a  prefix  (for  in  the  old  copies  "Edw."  is  always  the  prefix  to  the  king's 
speeches). 


158  Edward  the  Second.  [act  n. 

Y.  Mor.  By  heaven,  the  abject  villain  shall  not  live ! 

War.  I'll  have  his  blood,  or  die  in  seeking  it. 

Pern.  The  like  oath  Pembroke  takes. 

Lan.  And  so  doth  Lancaster. 
Now  send  our  heralds  to  defy  the  king ; 
And  make  the  people  swear  to  put  him  down.  no 

Enter  Messenger. 

K  Mor.  Letters  !  from  whence  ? 

Mess.  From  Scotland,  my  lord. 

[Gkmg  letters  to  Mortimer. 

Lan.  Why,  how  now,  cousin,  how  fares  all  our  friends  ? 

Y.  Mor.  My  uncle's  taken  prisoner  by  the  Scots. 

Lan.  We'll  have  him  ransomed,  man;  be  of  good  cheer. 

Y.  Mor.  They  rate  his  ransom  at  five  thousand  pound. 
Who  should  defray  the  money  but  the  king, 
Seeing  he  is  taken  prisoner  in  his  wars? 
I'll  to  the  king. 

Lan.  Do,  cousin,  and  I'll  bear  thee  company. 

War.   Meantime,  my  lord  of  Pembroke  and  myself  120 
Will  to  Newcastle  here,  and  gather  head. 

Y.  Mor.  About  it  then,  and  we  will  follow  you. 

Lan.  Be  resolute  and  full  of  secrecy. 

War.  I  warrant  you.  [Exit  with  Pembroke. 

Y.  Mor.  Cousin,  and  if  he  will  not  ransom  him, 
I'll  thunder  such  a  peal  into  his  ears, 
As  never  subject  did  unto  his  king.^ 

1  The  reader  cannot  fail  to  be  reminded  of  Hotspur : — 
"But  I  will  find  him  when  he  lies  asleep, 
And  in  his  ear  I'll  holla  '  Mortimer  ! '  " 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  159 

Lan.   Content,  I'll  bear  my  part — Holla  !  who's  there  ? 

[Guard  appears. 

Enter  Guard. 

K  Mor.  Ay,  marry,  such  a  guard  as  this  doth  well. 
Lan.  Lead  on  the  way.  130 

Guard.  Whither  will  your  lordships  ? 
K  Mor.  Whither  else  but  to  the  king. 
Guard.  His  highness  is  disposed  to  be  alone. 
Lan.  Why,  so  he  may,  but  we  will  speak  to  him. 
Guard.  You  may  not  in,  my  lord. 
Y.  Mor.  May  we  not  ? 

Ejiter  ^  Edward  and  Kent. 

Edw.  How  now  !  what  noise  is  this  ? 
Who  have  we  there,  is't  you?  \Going. 

Y.  Mor.  Nay,  stay,  my  lord,  I  come  to  bring  you  news  ; 
Mine  uncle's  taken  prisoner  by  the  Scots.  140 

Edw.  Then  ransom  him. 

Lan.  'Twas  in  your  wars  ;  you  should  ransom  him. 

Y.  Mor.  And  you  shall  ransom  him,  or  else 

Kent.  What !  Mortimer,  you  will  not  threaten  him  ? 

Edw.  Quiet  yourself,  you  shall  have  the  broad  seal, 
To  gather  for  him  th[o]roughout  the  realm. 

Lan.  Your  minion  Gaveston  hath  taught  you  this. 
Y.  Mor.  My  lord,  the  family  of  the  Mortimers 
Are  not  so  poor,  but,  would  they  sell  their  land, 
'Twould  -  levy  men  enough  to  anger  you.  150 

We  never  beg,  but  use  such  prayers  as  these. 

1  The  scene  shifts  to  the  interior  of  Tynemouth  Castle. 

2  So  ed.  1612, — Ed.  1598  "would." 


i6o  Edward  the  Second.  [act  n. 

Edw.  Shall  I  still  be  haunted  thus  ? 

K  Mor.  Nay,  nowyou're  here  alone,  I'll  speak  my  mind. 

Lan.  And  so  will  I,  and  then,  my  lord,  farewell. 

K  Mor.  The  idle  triumphs,  masks,  lascivious  shows, 
And  prodigal  gifts  bestowed  on  Gaveston, 
Have  drawn  thy  treasury  ^  dry,  and  made  thee  weak  ; 
The  murmuring  commons,  overstretched,  break. ^ 

Lan.  Look  for  rebellion,  look  to  be  deposed  ; 
Thy  garrisons  are  beaten  out  of  France,  i6o 

And,  lame  and  poor,  lie  groaning  at  the  gates. 
The  wild  Oneyl,  with  swarms  of  Irish  kerns,^ 
Lives  uncontrolled  within  the  English  pale. 
Unto  the  walls  of  York  the  Scots  make  ^  road, 
And  unresisted  drive  ^  away  rich  spoils. 

Y.  Mo?:  The  haughty  Danecommands  the  narrowseas,^ 
AVhile  in  the  harbour  ride  thy  ships  unrigged. 

Lan.  What  foreign  prince  sends  thee  ambassadors  ? 

Y.  Mor.  Who  loves  thee,  but  a  sort  of  flatterers  ? 

Laji.  Thy  gentle  queen,  sole  sister  to  Valois,  170 

Complains  that  thou  hast  left  her  all  forlorn, 

Y.  Mor.  Thy  court  is  naked,  being  bereft  of  those 
That  make  a  king  seem  glorious  to  the  world  ; 
I  mean  the  peers,  whom  thou  should'st  dearly  love  : 

1  So  ed.  1612. — Ed.  1598  "  thy  treasure  drie  and  made  the  weake." 

2  So  modern  editors. — Old  eds.  "hath." 

3  Light-armed   foot   soldiers,  poor  and   undisciplined. — Compare   a 
passage  in  the  Contention  of  York  and  Lancaster : — 

"  The  wild  Onele,  my  lord,  is  up  in  arms, 
With  troops  of  Irish  kernes  that  uncontroU'd 
Doth  plant  themselves  within  the  English  pale." 
*  Old  eds.  "made." — "  Road,"  =  "  Inroad."        5  Oldeds.  "drave." 
6  Cf.   3  Henry    VI.,   i.  i: — "Stem   Faulconbridge  commands  the 
narrow  seas." 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  i6i 

Libels  are  cast  again  ^  thee  in  the  street  : 
Ballads  and  rhymes  made  of  thy  overthrow. 

La?i.  The   Northern   borderers   seeing   their   houses 
burnt, 
Their  wives  and  children  slain,  run  up  and  down, 
Cursing  the  name  of  thee  and  Gaveston. 

Y.  Mor.  When  wert    thou  in  the  field  with   banner 
spread,  i8o 

But  once  ?  and  then  thy  soldiers  marched  like  players, 
With  garish  robes,  not  armour  \  and  thyself. 
Bedaubed  with  gold,  rode  laughing  at  the  rest, 
Nodding  and  shaking  of  thy  spangled  crest,  ,: 

Where  women's  favours  hung  like  labels  down. 

Lan.  And  thereof  came  it,  that  the  fleering 2  Scots, 
To  England's  high  disgrace,  have  made  this  jig; 
Maids  ^  of  England,  sore  may  you  mourn, 
For  your  lemans  you  have  lost  at  Bannocksbourn, 
With  a  heave  and  a  ho  !  190 

What  zveeneth  the  King  of  England, 
So  soon  to  have  won  Scotland  ? 
With  a  rombelow  !  ^ 


1  Against.  ^  Jeering. 

2  This  jig  (ballad)  is  taken  with  slight  alteration  from  Fabyan's 
"Chronicle,"  ii.  169  (ed.  1559). — "The  battle  of  Bannockburn,"  says 
Mr.  Fleay,  "was  fought  in  1314,  yet  is  here  alluded  to  in  a  scene  which 
is  made  up  from  narratives  of  events  which  occurred  between  1309  and 
131 1.  This  is  a  striking  instance  of  Marlowe's  carelessness  in  such 
matters." 

4  "Common  burdens  to  songs;  see  Skelton's  Works,  ii.  no,  ed. 
Dyce." — Dyce. 

VOL.    II.  L 


1 62  Edward  the  Second.  [act  n. 

Y.  Mor.  Wigmore  ^  shall  fly,  to  set  my  uncle  free. 

Lan.  And  when  'tis  gone,  our  swords  shall  purchase 
more. 
If  ye  be  moved,  revenge  it  as  you  can ; 
Look  next  to  see  us  with  our  ensigns  spread. 

\Exeunt  Nobles. 

Edw.  My  swelling  heart  for  very  anger  breaks  ! 
How  oft  have  I  been  baited  by  these  peers, 
And  dare  not  be  revenged,  for  their  power  is  great !    200 
Yet,  shall  the  crowing  of  these  cockerels 
Affright  a  lion  ?     Edward,  unfold  thy  paws. 
And  let  their  lives'  blood  slake  thy  fury's  hunger. 
If  I  be  cruel  and  grow  tyrannous. 
Now  let  them  thank  themselves,  and  rue  too  late. 

Ke7tt.  My  lord,  I  see  your  love  to  Gaveston 
Will  be  the  ruin  of  the  realm  and  you. 
For  now  the  wrathful  nobles  threaten  wars, 
And  therefore,  brother,  banish  him  for  ever. 

Edw.  Art  thou  an  enemy  to  my  Gaveston?  210 

Kent.  Ay,  and  it  grieves  me  that  I  favoured  him. 

Edw.  Traitor,  begone  !  whine  thou  with  Mortimer. 

Kent.  So  will  I,  rather  than  with  Gaveston. 

Edw.  Out  of  my  sight,  and  trouble  me  no  more  ! 

Kent.   No  marvel  though  thou  scorn  thy  noble  peers, 
When  I  thy  brother  am  rejected  thus.  \^Exit. 

Edw.  Away  ! 

1  "  Ralph  de  Wigmore,  who  came  into  England  with  the  Conqueror, 
obtained  the  castle  of  Wigmore,  Co.  Hereford,  and  the  Roger  Mor- 
timer of  this  play  was  summoned  to  Parliament  as  'de  Wigmore.'" 
— Cuniiingham. 


SCENE  11.]  Edward  the  Second.  163 

Poor  Gaveston,  that  has  no  friend  but  me, 

Do  what  they  can,  we'll  live  in  Tynemouth  here. 

And,  so  I  walk  with  him  about  the  walls,  220 

What  care  I  though  the  Earls  begirt  us  round? — 

Here  cometh  she  that's  cause  of  all  these  jars. 

Enter  the  Queen,  with  King's  Niece,  tivo  Ladies, 
Gaveston,  Baldock,  and  Young  Spencer. 

Queen.  My  lord,  'tis  thought  the  Earls  are  up  in  arms. 

Edw.  Ay,  and  'tis  likewise  thought  you  favour  'em.^ 

Queen.  Thus  do  you  still  suspect  me  without  cause  ? 

Lady.  Sweet  uncle  !  speak  more  kindly  to  the  queen. 

Gav.  My  lord,  dissemble  with  her,  speak  her  fair. 

Edw.  Pardon  me,  sweet,  I  forgot  myself. 

Queen.  Your  pardon  is  quickly  got  of  Isabel. 

Edw.  The  younger  Mortimer  is  grown  so  brave,     230 
That  to  my  face  he  threatens  civil  wars. 

Gav.  Why  do  you  not  commit  him  to  the  Tower  ? 

Edw.  I  dare  not,  for  the  people  love  him  well. 

Gav.  Why,  then  we'll  have  him  privily  made  away. 

Edw.  Would  Lancaster  and  he  had  both  caroused 
A  bowl  of  poison  to  each  other's  health  ! 
But  let  them  go,  and  tell  me  what  are  these. 
•  Lady.  Two  of  my  father's  servants  whilst  he  liv'd, — 
May't  please  your  grace  to  entertain  them  now. 

Edw.  Tell  me,  where  wast  thou  born  ?  what  is  thine 
arms  ?  240 

Bald.  My  name  is  Baldock,  and  my  gentry 
I  fetch  from  Oxford,  not  from  heraldry. 

1  Old  eds.  "him." 


1 64  Edward  the  Second.  [act  h. 

Edw.  The  fitter  art  thou,  Baldock,  for  my  turn. 
Wait  on  me,  and  I'll  see  thou  shall  not  want. 

Bald.  I  humbly  thank  your  majesty. 

Edw.  Knowest  thou  him,  Gaveston  ? 

Gav.  Ay,  my  lord ; 
His  name  is  Spencer,  he  is  well  allied ; 
For  my  sake,  let  him  wait  upon  your  grace  ; 
Scarce  shall  you  find  a  man  of  more  desert. 

Edw.  Then,  Spencer,  wait  upon  me;  for  his  sake    250 
I'll  grace  thee  with  a  higher  style  ere  long. 

Y.  Spen.  No  greater  titles  happen  unto  me, 
Than  to  be  favoured  of  your  majesty. 

Ediu.  Cousin,  this  day  shall  be  your  marriage-feast. 
And,  Gaveston,  think  that  I  love  thee  well. 
To  wed  thee  to  our  niece,  the  only  heir 
Unto  the  Earl  of  Gloucester  late  deceased. 

Gav.   I  know,  my  lord,  many  will  stomach  me. 
But  I  respect  neither  their  love  nor  hate. 

Edw.  The  headstrong  barons  shall  not  limit  me  ;   260 
He  that  I  list  to  favour  shall  be  great. 
Come,  let's  away  ;  and  when  the  marriage  ends, 
Have  at  the  rebels,  and  their  'complices  ! 

\Exeunt  oinnes. 
SCENE  HI. 

Enter^  Lancaster,  Young  Mortimer,  Warwick, 
Pembroke,  and  Kent. 

Kent.  My  lords,  of  love  to  this  our  native  land 
I  come  to  join  with  you  and  leave  the  king ; 

1  Scene  :  the  neighbourhood  of  Tynemouth. 


SCENE  III.]  Edward  the  Second.  165 

And  in  your  quarrel  and  the  realm's  behoof 
Will  be  the  first  that  shall  adventure  life. 

La7i.  I  fear  me,  you  are  sent  of  policy, 
To  undermine  us  with  a  show  of  love. 

War.   He  is  your  brother,  therefore  have  we  cause 
To  cast  ^  the  worst,  and  doubt  of  your  revolt. 

Kent.  Mine  honour  shall  be  hostage  of  my  truth  : 
If  that  will  not  suffice,  farewell,  my  lords.  10 

Y.  Mor.  Stay,  Edmund ;  never  was  Plantagenet 
False  of  his  word,  and  therefore  trust  we  thee. 

Pem.  But  what's  the  reason  you  should  leave  him 
now? 

Kent.  I  have  informed  the  Earl  of  Lancaster. 

Lan.  And  it  sufficeth.     Now,  my  lords,  know  this, 
That  Gaveston  is  secretly  arrived. 
And  here  in  Tynemouth  frolics  with  the  king. 
Let  us  with  these  our  followers  scale  the  walls, 
And  suddenly  surprise  them  unawares. 

Y.  Mor.   I'll  give  the  onset. 

War.  And  I'll  follow  thee.  20 

Y.  Mor.  This  tottered  ^  ensign  of  my  ancestors, 
Which  swept  the  desert  shore  of  that  dead  ^  sea 
Whereof  we  got  the  name  of  Mortimer, 
Will  I  advance  upon  this  castle['s]  walls. 
Drums,  strike  alarum,  raise  them  from  their  sport. 
And  ring  aloud  the  knell  of  Gaveston  ! 


1  Surmise.  2  Tattered. 

3  "  In  all  Latin  deeds  the  Mortimers  are  called  'de  Mortuo  mari. 
— Cunningham. 


1 66  Edward  the  Seco7id.  [act  ii. 

Lan.  None  be  so  hardy  as  [to]  touch  the  king ; 
But  neither  spare  you  Gaveston  nor  his  friends.    \Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV. 
Enter  ^  the  King  ayid  Young  Spencer. 

Edw.  O  tell  me,  Spencer,  where  is  Gaveston? 
Spen.  I  fear  me  he  is  slain,  my  gracious  lord. 
Edw.  No,  here  he  comes ;  now  let  them  spoil   and 
kill. 

Enter  Queen,  King's  Niece,  Gaveston,  and  Nobles. 

Fly,  fly,  my  lords,  the  earls  have  got  the  hold ; 
Take  shipping  and  away  to  Scarborough  ; 
Spencer  and  I  will  post  away  by  land. 

Gav.  O  stay,  my  lord,  they  will  not  injure  you. 

Edw.  I  will  not  trust  them  ;  Gaveston,  away  ! 

Gav.  Farewell,  my  lord. 

Ediv.  Lady,  farewell. 

Lady.  Farewell,  sweet  uncle,  till  we  meet  again.        lo 

Edw.  Farewell,  sweet  Gaveston ;  and  farewell,  niece. 

Quee?i.  No  farewell  to  poor  Isabel  thy  queen  ? 

Edw.  Yes,  yes,  for  Mortimer,  your  lover's  sake. 

\Exeunt  all  but  Isabel. 

Quee7i.  Heaven  can  witness  I  love  none  but  you  : 
From  my  embracements  thus  he  breaks  away. 
O  that  mine  arms  could  close  this  isle  about, 
That  I  might  pull  him  to  me  where  I  would  ! 

1  Scene ;  the  interior  of  Tynemouth  Castle. 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second,  167 

Or  that  these  tears,  that  drizzle  from  mine  eyes, 

Had  power  to  mollify  his  stony  heart, 

That  when  I  had  him  we  might  never  part.  20 

Enter  the  Barons.     Alarums. 

Lan.  I  wonder  how  he  scaped  ! 

Y.  Mor.  Who's  this,  the  queen  ? 

Queen.  Ay,  Mortimer,  the  miserable  queen, 
Whose  pining  heart  her  inward  sighs  have  blasted, 
And  body  with  continual  mourning  wasted  : 
These  hands  are  tired  with  haling  of  my  lord 
From  Gaveston,  from  wicked  Gaveston, 
And  all  in  vain  ;  for,  when  I  speak  him  fair. 
He  turns  away,  and  smiles  upon  his  minion. 

Y.  Mor.  Cease  to  lament,  and  tell  us  where's  the  king  ? 

Queen.  What  would  you  with  the  king  ?  is't  him  you 
seek  ?  30 

Lan.  No,  madam,  but  that  cursed  Gaveston. 
Far  be  it  from  the  thought  of  Lancaster 
To  offer  violence  to  his  sovereign. 
We  would  but  rid  the  realm  of  Gaveston  : 
Tell  us  where  he  remains,  and  he  shall  die. 

Queen.  He's  gone  by  water  unto  Scarborough ; 
Pursue  him  quickly,  and  he  cannot  scape ; 
The  king  hath  left  him,  and  his  train  is  small. 

War.  Foreslow  ^  no  time,  sweet  Lancaster,  let's  march. 

Y.  Mor.  How   comes   it   that   the    king    and   he   is 
parted  ?  40 


1  Delay.     The  word  occurs  in  3  Henry   VI.,  ii.  3,  1.  56  ;  Arden  of 
Feversham,  &c. 


1 68  Edward  the  Second.  [act  h. 

Qiieen.  That  thus  '^  your  army,  going  several  ways, 
Might  be  of  lesser  force  :  and  with  the  power 
That  he  intendeth  presently  to  raise, 
Be  easily  suppressed  ;  therefore  ^  be  gone. 

Y.  Mor.  Here  in  the  river  rides  a  Flemish  hoy  ; 
Let's  all  aboard,  and  follow  him  amain. 

Lan.  The  wind  that  bears  him  hence  will  fill  our  sails  : 
Come,  come  aboard,  'tis  but  an  hour's  sailing. 

Y.  Mor.  Madam,  stay  you  within  this  castle  here. 

Queen.  No,  Mortimer,  I'll  to  my  lord  the  king.  5° 

Y.  Mor.  Nay,  rather  sail  with  us  to  Scarborough. 

Queen.  You  know  the  king  is  so  suspicious, 
As  if  he  hear  I  have  but  talked  with  you, 
Mine  honour  will  be  called  in  question  ; 
And  therefore,  gentle  Mortimer,  be  gone. 

Y.  Mor.   Madam,  I  cannot  stay  to  answer  you, 
But  think  of  Mortimer  as  he  deserves.    [Exeunf  Barons. 

Queen.  So  well  hast  thou  deserved,  sweet  Mortimer, 
As  Isabel  could  live  with  thee  for  ever. 
In  vain  I  look  for  love  at  Edward's  hand,  6o 

Whose  eyes  are  fixed  on  none  but  Gaveston. 
Yet  once  more  I'll  importune  him  with  prayer  : 
If  he  be  strange  and  not  regard  my  words. 
My  son  and  I  will  over  into  France, 
And  to  the  king  my  brother  there  complain. 
How  Gaveston  hath  robbed  me  of  his  love  : 
But  yet  I  hope  my  sorrows  will  have  end, 
And  Gaveston  this  blessed  day  be  slain.  \Exit. 

1  Oldeds.  "this." 

2  So  ed.  1622,— Eds.  1598,  1612,  "a«(/ therefore." 


SCENE  v.]  Edward  the  Seco7id.  169 

SCENE  V. 

Enter'^  Gxy-ESio^,  pursiced. 

Gav.  Yet,  lusty  lords,  I  have  escaped  your  hands, 
Your  threats,  your  larums,  and  your  hot  pursuits  ; 
And  though  divorced  from  King  Edward's  eyes. 
Yet  liveth  Pierce  of  Gaveston  unsurprised, 
Breathing,  in  hope  (malgrado-  all  your  beards, 
That  muster  rebels  thus  against  your  king), 
To  see  ^  his  royal  sovereign  once  again. 

Enter  the  Nobles. 

War.  Upon  him,  soldiers,  take  away  his  weapons. 

Y.  Mor,   Thou  proud  disturber  of  thy  country's  peace, 
Corrupter  of  thy  king  ;  cause  of  these  broils,  10 

Base  flatterer,  yield  !  and  were  it  not  for  shame. 
Shame  and  dishonour  to  a  soldier's  name. 
Upon  my  weapon's  point  here  should'st  thou  fall. 
And  welter  in  thy  gore. 

Lan.  Monster  of  men  ! 
That,  like  the  Greekish  strumpet,  trained  to  arms 
And  bloody  wars  so  many  valiant  knights ; 
Look  for  no  other  fortune,  wretch,  than  death  ! 
King  Edward  is  not  here  to  buckler  thee. 

War.  Lancaster,  why  talk'st  thou  to  the  slave  ? 


1  "There  is  such  uncertainty  about  the  location  of  this  scene  that  I 
can  only  mark  it — an  open  country." — Dyce, 

2  The  Italian  form  of  "  maugre." 

3  Seed.  1612. — Ed.  1598  "these." 


170  Edward  the  Second.  [act  n. 

Go,  soldiers,  take  him  hence,  for,  by  my  sword,  20 

His  head  shall  off:  Gaveston,  short  warning 
Shall  serve  thy  turn.     It  is  our  country's  cause, 
That  here  severely  we  will  execute 
Upon  thy  person  :  hang  him  at  a  bough. 

Gav.  My  lord  ! — 

War.  Soldiers,  have  him  away  ; — 
But  for  thou  wert  the  favourite  of  a  king, 
Thou  shalt  have  so  much  honour  at  our  hands  ^ — 

Gav.  I  thank  you  all,  my  lords :  then  I  perceive. 
That  heading  is  one,  and  hanging  is  the  other. 
And  death  is  all. 

Ejiter  Earl  of  Arundel. 

Lan.   How  now,  my  lord  of  Arundel  ?  30 

Arun.  My  lords,  King  Edward  greets  you  all  by  me. 

War.  Arundel,  say  your  message. 

Arun.  His  majesty, 
Hearing  that  you  had  taken  Gaveston, 
Entreateth  you  by  me,  yet  but  he  may 
See  him  before  he  dies ;  for  why,  he  says. 
And  sends  you  word,  he  knows  that  die  he  shall ; 
And  if  you  gratify  his  grace  so  far, 
He  will  be  mindful  of  the  courtesy. 
War.  How  now  ? 

Gav.  Renowmed  Edward,  liow  thy  name 
Revives  poor  Gaveston  ! 

War.  No,  it  needeth  not ;  40 

1  A  line,  as  Dyce  remarks,  in  which  Warwick  says  that  Gaveston  shall 
be  beheaded,  has  dropped  out. 


SCENE  v.]  Edward  the  Second.  171 

Arundel,  we  will  gratify  the  king 

In  other  matters ;  he  must  pardon  us  in  this. 

Soldiers,  away  with  him  ! 

Gav.  Why,  my  lord  of  Warwick, 
Will  not  these  delays  beget  my  hopes  ?  ^ 
I  know  it,  lords,  it  is  this  life  you  aim  at, 
Yet  grant  King  Edward  this. 

K  Mor.   Shalt  thou  appoint 
What  we  shall  grant  ?     Soldiers,  away  with  him  : 
Thus  we'll  gratify  the  king. 
We'll  send  his  head  by  thee ;  let  him  bestow 
His  tears  on  that,  for  that  is  all  he  gets  50 

Of  Gaveston,  or  else  his  senseless  trunk. 

Lan.  Not  so,  my  lords,  lest  he  bestow  more  cost 
In  burying  him  than  he  hath  ever  earned. 

Arun.  My  lords,  it  is  his  majesty's  request, 
And  in  the  honour  of  a  king  he  swears, 
He  will  but  talk  with  him,  and  send  him  back. 

War.  When  ?  can  you  tell  1  ^     Arundel,  no ;  we  wot, 
He  that  the  care  of  his  ^  realm  remits, 
And  drives  his  nobles  to  these  exigents 
For  Gaveston,  will,  if  he  seize  ^  him  once,  60 

Violate  any  promise  to  possess  him. 

1  The  passage  is  corrupt :  I  have  followed  the  reading  of  the  old 
eds.     Dyce  gives — 

"Will  now  these  short  delays  beget  my  hopes  ?  " 

2  "When?  can  you  tell?" — a  sort  of  proverbial  expression.  See 
Dyce's  Shakespeare  Glossary. 

3  So  Dyce. — Ed.  1598  omits  "his."  Eds.  1612,  1622,  read: — "He 
that  hath  the  care  of  Realme-remits."  ("Care  "  must  be  pronounced  as 
a  dissyllable.) 

*  Cunningham  reads  "sees." 


172  Edward  the  Second.  [act  n. 

Arun.  Then  if  you  will  not  trust  his  grace  in  keep, 
My  lords,  I  will  be  pledge  for  his  return. 

Y.  Mor.  'Tis  ^  honourable  in  thee  to  offer  this  ; 
But  for  we  know  thou  art  a  noble  gentleman. 
We  will  not  wrong  thee  so,  to  make  away 
A  true  man  for  a  thief. 

Gav.  How  mean'st  thou,  Mortimer?  that  is  over-base. 

Y.  Mor.  Away,  base  groom,  robber  of  king's  renown  ! 
Question  with  thy  companions  and  mates.  70 

Pern.  My  Lord  Mortimer,  and  you,  my  lords,  each  one, 
To  gratify  the  king's  request  therein. 
Touching  the  sending  of  this  Gaveston, 
Because  his  majesty  so  earnestly 
Desires  to  see  the  man  before  his  death, 
I  will  upon  mine  honour  undertake 
To  carry  him,  and  bring  him  back  again  ; 
Provided  this,  that  you  my  lord  of  Arundel 
Will  join  with  me. 

War.  Pembroke,  what  wilt  thou  do  ? 
Cause  yet  more  bloodshed  ?  is  it  not  enough  80 

That  we  have  taken  him,  but  must  we  now 
Leave  him  on  "  had  I  wist,"  ^  and  let  him  go  ? 

Pcm.  My  lords,  I  will  not  over-woo  your  honours, 
But  if  you  dare  trust  Pembroke  with  the  prisoner. 
Upon  mine  oath,  I  will  return  him  back. 

Arun.  My  lord  of  Lancaster,  what  say  you  in  this  ? 

Lan.  Why,  I  say,  let  him  go  on  Pembroke's  word. 

1  Old  eds.  "  It  is." 

2  "  The  exclamation  of  those  who  repent  what  they  have  rashly 
done." — Dyce. 


SCENE  v.]  Edward  the  Second.  173 

Pern.  And  you,  Lord  Mortimer  ? 
K  Mor.  How  say  you,  my  lord  of  Warwick  ? 

War.  Nay,  do  your  pleasures,  I  know  how  'twill  prove. 

Pent.  Then  give  him  me. 

Gav.  Sweet  sovereign,  yet  I  come  90 

To  see  thee  ere  I  die. 

War.  Yet  not  perhaps. 
If  Warwick's  wit  and  policy  prevail.  \Aside. 

Y.  Mor.  My  lord  of  Pembroke,  we  deliver  him  you  ; 
Return  him  on  your  honour.     Sound,  away  ! 

\Exeimt  all  but  Pembroke,  Arundel,^ 
Gaveston,  and  Pembroke's  Men. 

Pern.  My  lord  [of  Arundel],  you  shall  go  with  me. 
My  house  is  not  far  hence  ;  out  of  the  way 
A  little,  but  our  men  shall  go  along. 
We  that  have  pretty  wenches  to  our  wives, 
Sir,  must  not  come  so  near  to  baulk  their  lips. 

Arim.  'Tis  very  kindly  spoke,  my  lord  of  Pembroke;  100 
Your  honour  hath  an  adamant  of  power 
To  draw  a  prince. 

Pern.  So,  my  lord.     Come  hither,  James  : 
I  do  commit  this  Gaveston  to  thee, 
Be  thou  this  night  his  keeper,  in  the  morning 
We  will  discharge  thee  of  thy  charge  :  be  gone. 

Gav.  Unhappy  Gaveston,  whither  goest  thou  now  ? 

\Exit  with  James  and  Pembroke's  Men. 

Horse-boy.  My  lord,  we'll  quickly  be  at  Cobham, 

\Exeunt. 

1  Here  and  throughout  iii.  ii,  the4tos.  give  "Mat"  and  "  Matreuis  "  for 
"Arundel."  The  mistake  arose,  as  Dyce  pointed  out,  by  the  parts  of 
Arundel  and  Matrevis  having  been  taken  by  the  same  actor. 


(     174    ) 


ACT  THE  THIRD. 


SCENE  I. 


Enter'^  Gaveston  i?wurning,  James,  and  t/ie  Earl  of 
Pembroke's  Men. 

Gav.  O   treacherous  Warwick  !    thus   to  wrong   thy 

friend. 
James.  I  see  it  is  your  Ufe  these  arms  pursue. 
Gav.  Weaponless  must  I  fall,  and  die  in  bands  ? 
O  !  must  this  day  be  period  of  my  life  ? 
Centre  of  all  my  bliss  !  An  ye  be  men, 
Speed  to  the  king. 

Enter  Warwick  and  his  compa?iy. 

War.  My  lord  of  Pembroke's  men. 
Strive  you  no  longer — I  will  have  that  Gaveston. 

James.  Your  lordship  does  dishonour  to  yourself, 
And  wrong  our  lord,  your  honourable  friend. 

War.  No,  James,  it  is  my  country's  cause  I  follow.  lo 
Go,  take  the  villain  ;  soldiers,  come  away. 
We'll  make  quick  work.     Commend  me  to  your  master, 

1  Scene :  the  open  country  (near  Warwick  ?). 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  1 75 

My  friend,  and  tell  him  that  I  watched  it  well. 
Come,  let  thy  shadow  ^  parley  with  King  Edward. 
Gav.  Treacherous  earl,  shall  I  not  see  the  king? 
War.  The  king  of  Heaven  perhaps,  no  other  king. 
Away!    [Exeunt  \NA'K\\icvi  and  his  INIen  with  Gaveston. 

James.  Come,  fellows,  it  booted  not  for  us  to  strive, 
We  will  in  haste  go  certify  our  lord.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  11. 

Etiter-  King  Edward  «;?^  Young  Spencer,  Baldock, 
and  Nobles  of  the  king's  side,  with  drums  and  fifes. 

Edw.  I  long  to  hear  an  answer  from  the  barons 
Touching  my  friend,  my  dearest  Gaveston. 
Ah  !  Spencer,  not  the  riches  of  my  realm 
Can  ransom  him !  ah,  he  is  marked  to  die ! 
I  know  the  malice  of  the  younger  Mortimer, 
Warwick  I  know  is  rough,  and  Lancaster 
Inexorable,  and  I  shall  never  see 
My  lovely  Pierce  of  Gaveston  again  ! 
The  barons  overbear  me  with  their  pride. 

Y.  Spen.  Were  I  King  Edward,  England's  sovereign,  10 
Son  to  the  lovely  Eleanor  of  Spain, 
Great  Edward  Longshanks'  issue,  would  I  bear 
These  braves,^  this  rage,  and  suffer  uncontrolled 
These  barons  thus  to  beard  me  in  my  land. 


1  The  meaning  is  surely  "  ghost,  spirit,"  not,  as  Mr.  Fleay  interprets, 
' '  representative,  plenipotentiary. " 

2  Scene  :  neighbourhood  of  Borrowbridge. 
'  Braggard  challenges. 


1 76  Edward  the  Second.  [act  m. 

In  mine  own  realm  ?     My  lord,  pardon  my  speech  : 

Did  you  retain  your  father's  magnanimity, 

Did  you  regard  the  honour  of  your  name. 

You  would  not  suffer  thus  your  majesty  , 

Be  counterbuft  of  your  nobility. 

Strike  off  their  heads,  and  let  them  preach  on  poles  !   20 

No  doubt,  such  lessons  they  will  teach  the  rest, 

As  by  their  preachments  they  will  profit  much, 

And  learn  obedience  to  their  lawful  king. 

Edw.  Yea,  gentle  Spencer,  we  have  been  too  mild. 
Too  kind  to  them ;  but  now  have  drawn  our  sword, 
And  if  they  send  me  not  my  Gaveston, 
We'll  steel  it  on  their  crest,  and  poll  their  tops. 

Bald.  This  haught  ^  resolve  becomes  your  majesty 
Not  to  be  tied  to  their  affection, 

As  though  your  highness  were  a  schoolboy  still,  30 

And  must  be  awed  and  governed  like  a  child. 

Enter  Hugh  Spencer,  father  to  the  Young  Spencer, 
with  his  truncheon  and  Soldiers. 

E.  Spen.  Long  live  my  sovereign,  the  noble  Edward — 
In  peace  triumphant,  fortunate  in  wars  ! 

Edw.  Welcome,  old  man,  com'st  thou  in  Edward's  aid? 
Then  tell  thy  ^  prince  of  whence,  and  what  thou  art. 

E.  Spen.  Lo,  with  a  band  of  bowmen  and  of  pikes, 
Brown  bills  and  targeteers,  four  hundred  strong. 
Sworn  to  defend  King  Edward's  royal  right, 
I  come  in  person  to  your  majesty, 

1  Fr.  haut.  2  old  eds.  "  the." 


SCENE  II.]  Edwa7'd  the  Second.  177 

Spencer,  the  father  of  Hugh  Spencer  there,  40 

Bound  to  your  highness  everlastingly, 
For  favour  done,  in  him,  unto  us  all. 

Edw.  Thy  father,  Spencer  ? 

Y.  Spen.  True,  an  it  like  your  grace, 
That  pours,  in  lieu  of  all  your  goodness  shown, 
His  life,  my  lord,  before  your  princely  feet. 

Ediv.  Welcome  ten  thousand  times,  old  man,  again. 
Spencer,  this  love,  this  kindness  to  thy  king, 
Argues  thy  noble  mind  and  disposition. 
Spencer,  I  here  create  thee  Earl  of  Wiltshire, 
And  daily  will  enrich  thee  with  our  favour,  50 

That,  as  the  sunshine,  shall  reflect  o'er  thee. 
Beside,  the  more  to  manifest  our  love, 
Because  we  hear  Lord  Bruce  doth  sell  his  land. 
And  that  the  Mortimers  are  in  hand  withal, 
Thou  shalt  have  crowns  of  us  t'  outbid  the  barons  : 
And,  Spencer,  spare  them  not,  lay  it  on. 
Soldiers,  a  largess,  and  thrice  welcome  all ! 

Y.  Spen.  My  lord,  here  comes  ^  the  queen. 

Enter  the  Queen  and  her  Son,  and  Levune,  a  Frotchman. 

Edw.  Madam,  what  news  ? 

Queen.  News  of  dishonour,  lord,  and  discontent. 
Our  friend  Levune,  faithful  and  full  of  trust,  60 

Informeth  us,  by  letters  and  by  words, 
That  Lord  Valois  our  brother.  King  of  France, 
Because  your  highness  hath  been  slack  in  homage, 


1  So  ed.  1612. — Ed.  1598  "come." 
VOL.    II. 


I  yZ  Edzvard  the  Second.  [act  m. 

Hath  seized  Normandy  into  his  hands. 
These  be  the  letters,  this  the  messenger. 

Edw.  Welcome,  Levune.     Tush,  Sib,  if  this  be  all, 
Valois  and  I  will  soon  be  friends  again. — 
But  to  my  Gaveston  ;  shall  I  never  see. 
Never  behold  thee  now  ?  ^ — Madam,  in  this  matter. 
We  will  employ  you  and  your  little  son  ;  70 

You  shall  go  parley  with  the  King  of  France. 
Boy,  see  you  bear  you  bravely  to  the  king, 
And  do  your  message  with  a  majesty. 

Prince.  Commit  not  to  my  youth  things  of  more  weight 
Than  fits  a  prince  so  young  as  I  to  bear, 
And  fear  not,  lord  and  father,  heaven's  great  beams 
On  Atlas'  shoulder  shall  not  lie  more  safe, 
Than  shall  your  charge  committed  to  my  trust. 

Queen.  Ah,  boy !  this  towardness  makes  thy  mother  fear 
Thou  art  not  marked  to  many  days  on  earth.  80 

Edw.  Madam,  we  will  that  you  with  speed  be  shipped. 
And  this  our  son  ;  Levune  shall  follow  you 
With  all  the  haste  we  can  despatch  him  hence. 
Choose  of  our  lords  to  bear  you  company  ; 
Xnd  go  in  peace,  leave  us  in  wars  at  home. 

Queen.  Unnatural  wars,  where  subjects  brave  their  king ; 
God  end  them  once  !     My  lord,  I  take  my  leave. 
To  make  my  preparation  for  France. 

\Exit  with  Prince. 
Ejiter  Arundel. 

Edw.  What,  Lord  Arundel,  dost  thou  come  alone  ? 


1  Cunningham  and  Mr.  Fleay  silently  print  "  more." 


SCENE  11.]  Edward  the  Second.  179 

Arun.  Yea,  my  good  lord,  for  Gaveston  is  dead.      90 

Edw.  Ah,  traitors  !  have  they  put  my  friend  to  death  ? 
Tell  me,  Arundel,  died  he  ere  thou  cam'st, 
Or  didst  thou  see  my  friend  to  take  his  death  ? 

Arun.  Neither,  my  lord  ;  for  as  he  was  surprised. 
Begirt  with  weapons  and  with  enemies  round, 
I  did  your  highness'  message  to  them  all ; 
Demanding  him  of  them,  entreating  rather, 
And  said,  upon  the  honour  of  my  name. 
That  I  would  undertake  to  carry  him 
Unto  your  highness,  and  to  bring  him  back.  100 

Edw.  And  tell  me,  would  the  rebels  deny  me  that? 
Y.  Spen.  Proud  recreants  ! 

Edw.  Yea,  Spencer,  traitors  all. 

Arun.  I  found  them  at  the  first  inexorable ; 
The  Earl  of  Warwick  would  not  bide  the  hearing, 
Mortimer  hardly ;  Pembroke  and  Lancaster 
Spake  least :  and  when  they  flatly  had  denied. 
Refusing  to  receive  me  pledge  for  him. 
The  Earl  of  Pembroke  mildly  thus  bespake  ; 
"  My  lords,  because  our  sovereign  sends  for  him, 
And  promiseth  he  shall  be  safe  returned,  no 

I  will  this  undertake,  to  have  him  hence, 
And  see  him  re-delivered  to  your  hands." 

Ed7a.  Well,  and  how  fortunes  [it]  that  he  came  not? 

Y.  Spen.  Some  treason,  or  some  villany,  was  the  cause. 

Arun.  The  Earl  of  Warwick  seized  him  on  his  way ; 
For  being  delivered  unto  Pembroke's  men, 
Their  lord  rode  home  thinking  his  prisoner  safe  ; 
But  ere  he  came,  Warwick  in  ambush  lay. 


1 80  Edward  the  Second.  [act  m. 

And  bare  him  to  his  death  ;  and  in  a  trench 

Strake  off  his  head,  and  marched  unto  the  camp.       120 

Y.  Spen.  A  bloody  part,  flatly  'gainst  law  of  arms. 

Edw.  O  shall  I  speak,  or  shall  I  sigh  and  die ! 

Y.  Spen.  My  lord,  refer  your  vengeance  to  the  sword 
Upon  these  barons  ;  hearten  up  your  men  ; 
Let  them  not  unrevenged  murder  your  friends  ! 
Advance  your  standard,  Edward,  in  the  field, 
And  march  to  fire  them  from  their  starting-holes, 

[Edward  kneels. 

Ediu.  By  earth,  the  common  mother  of  us  all, 
By  heaven,  and  all  the  moving  orbs  thereof, 
By  this  right  hand,  and  by  my  father's  sword,  130 

And  all.  the  honours  'longing  to  my  crown, 
I  will  have  heads,  and  lives  for  him,  as  many 
As  I  have  manors,  castles,  towns,  and  towers  !       \Rises. 
Treacherous  Warwick  !  traitorous  Mortimer  ! 
If  I  be  England's  king,  in  lakes  of  gore 
Your  headless  trunks,  your  bodies  will  I  trail, 
That  you  may  drink  your  fill,  and  quaff  in  blood. 
And  stain  my  royal  standard  with  the  same, 
That  so  my  bloody  colours  may  suggest 
Remembrance  of  revenge  immortally  140 

On  your  accursed  traitorous  progeny, 
You  villains,  that  have  slain  my  Gaveston  ! 
And  in  this  place  of  honour  and  of  trust, 
Spencer,  sweet  Spencer,  I  adopt  thee  here  : 
And  merely  of  our  love  we  do  create  thee 
Earl  of  Gloucester,  and  Lord  Chamberlain, 
Despite  of  times,  despite  of  enemies. 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second,  1 8 1 

Y.  Spen.  My  lord,   here  is  ^  a   messenger   from   the 
barons 
Desires  access  unto  your  majesty. 

Edw.  Admit  him  near.  150 

Enter  the  Herald  from  the  Barons,  with  his  coat  of 
arms. 

Her.  Long  live  King  Edward,  England's  lawful  lord  ! 

Edw.  So  wish  not  they,  I  wis,  that  sent  thee  hither. 
Thou  com'st  from  Mortimer  and  his  complices, 
A  ranker  rout  ^  of  rebels  never  was. 
Well,  say  thy  message. 

Her.  The  barons  up  in  arms,  by  me  salute 
Your  highness  with  long  life  and  happiness  ; 
And  bid  me  say,  as  plainer  to  your  grace, 
That  if  without  effusion  of  blood 

You  will  this  grief  have  ease  and  remedy,  160 

That  from  your  princely  person  you  remove 
This  Spencer,  as  a  putrifying  branch. 
That  deads  the  royal  vine,  whose  golden  leaves  ^ 
Empale  your  princely  head,  your  diadem. 
Whose  brightness  such  pernicious  upstarts  dim. 
Say  they  ;  and  lovingly  advise  your  grace, 
To  cherish  virtue  and  nobility. 
And  have  old  servitors  in  high  esteem, 
And  shake  off  smooth  dissembling  flatterers  : 


1  Ed.  1598  "heresis." — Ed.  1612,  1622,  "  heres." 

2  So  ed.  1622. — Eds.  1598,  1612,  "roote." 
2  So  ed.  1612. — Ed.  1398  "  leave." 


1 82  Edward  the  Second,  [act  m. 

This  granted,  they,  their  honours,  and  their  lives,         170 
Are  to  your  highness  vowed  and  consecrate. 

Y.  Spen.  Ah,    traitors !   will   they   still   display   their 
pride  ? 

Edw.  Away,  tarry  no  answer,  but  be  gone  ! 
Rebels,  will  they  appoint  their  sovereign 
His  sports,  his  pleasures,  and  his  company  ? 
Yet,  ere  thou  go,  see  how  I  do  divorce 

\^Embraces  Spencer. 
Spencer  from  me. — Now  get  thee  to  thy  lords, 
And  tell  them  I  will  come  to  chastise  them 
For  murdering  Gaveston  ;  hie  thee,  get  thee  gone  ! 
Edward  with  fire  and  sword  follows  at  thy  heels.  180 

My  lord[s],  perceive  you  how  these  rebels  swell? 
Soldiers,  good  hearts,  defend  your  sovereign's  right. 
For  now,  even  now,  we  march  to  make  them  stoop. 
Away  !  \Exeiint.  Alarums,  excursions^  a  great  Jight, 

and  a  retreat 

SCENE  III. 

Enter  the  King,  Elder  Spencer,  Young  Spencer, 
and  the  Noblemen  of  the  King's  side. 

Edw.  Why  do  we  sound  retreat  ?  upon  them,  lords  ! 
This  day  I  shall  pour  vengeance  with  my  sword 
On  those  proud  rebels  that  are  up  in  arms. 
And  do  confront  and  countermand  their  king. 

Y.  Spen.  I  doubt  it  not,  my  lord,  right  will  prevail. 

E.  Spen.  '  Tis  not  amiss,  my  liege,  for  either  part 
To  breathe  awhile ;  our  men,  with  sweat  and  dust 


SCENE  III.]  Edward  the  Second,  183 

All  choked  well  near,  begin  to  faint  for  heat ; 
And  this  retire  refresheth  horse  and  man. 

K  Spen.  Here  come  the  rebels.  10 


Enter  Young  Mortimer,  Lancaster,  Warwick, 
Pembroke,  6^^. 

Y.  Mor.  Look,  Lancaster,  yonder  is  Edward 
Among  his  flatterers. 

La?i.  And  there  let  him  be 
Till  he  pay  dearly  for  their  company. 

War.  And  shall,  or  Warwick's  sword  shall  smite  in 
vain. 

Edw.  What,  rebels,  do  you  shrink  and  sound  retreat  } 

Y.  Mor.  No,  Edward,  no,  thy  flatterers  faint  and  fly. 

Lan.  They'd   best  betimes   forsake   thee,    and   their 
trains,^ 
For  they'll  betray  thee,  traitors  as  they  are. 

Y.  Spen.  Traitor  on  thy  face,  rebellious  Lancaster  ! 

Pent.  Away,  base  upstart,  bravest  thou  nobles  thus  ?  20 

E.  Spen.  A  noble  attempt,  and  honourable  deed, 
Is  ^  it  not,  trow  ye,  to  assemble  aid. 
And  levy  arms  against  your  lawful  king  ! 

Edw.  For  which  ere  long  their  heads  shall  satisfy. 
To  appease  the  wrath  of  their  offended  king. 

Y.  Mor.  Then,  Edward,  thou  wilt  fight  it  to  the  last, 
And  rather  bathe  thy  sword  in  subjects'  blood. 
Than  banish  that  pernicious  company  ? 

Edw.  Ay,  traitors  all,  rather  than  thus  be  braved, 

1  Schemes.  2  So  ed,  1612. — Ed.  1598  "  It  is." 


1 84  Edward  the  Second.  [act  m. 

Make  England's  civil  towns  huge  heaps  of  stones,        30 
And  ploughs  to  go  about  our  palace-gates. 

War.  A  desperate  and  unnatural  resolution  ! 
Alarum  ! — to  the  fight ! 
St.  George  for  England,  and  the  barons'  right. 

Edw.  SL  George  for  England,  and    King   Edward's 
right.  [A/arums.     Exeunt. 

Re-enter  Edward  a7id  his  follmvcrs,  tvith  the  Barons 
a7id  Kent,  captives. 

Edw.  Now,  lusty  lords,  now,  not  by  chance  of  war. 
But  justice  of  the  quarrel  and  the  cause, 
Vailed  is  your  pride ;  methinks  you  hang  the  heads, 
But  we'll  advance  them,  traitors ;  now  'tis  time 
To  be  avenged  on  you  for  all  your  braves,  40 

And  for  the  murder  of  my  dearest  friend. 
To  whom  right  well  you  knew  our  soul  was  knit, 
Good  Pierce  of  Gaveston,  my  sweet  favourite 
Ah,  rebels  !  recreants  !  you  made  him  away. 

Kent.  Brother,  in  regard  of  thee,  and  of  thy  land, 
Did  they  remove  that  flatterer  from  thy  throne. 

Edw.  So,    sir,    you    have   spoke;    away,   avoid   our 
presence.  \Exit  Kent. 

Accursed  wretches,  was't  in  regard  of  us, 
When  we  had  sent  our  messenger  to  request 
He  might  be  spared  to  come  to  speak  with  us,  50 

And  Pembroke  undertook  for  his  return, 
That  thou,  proud  Warwick,  watched  the  prisoner. 
Poor  Pierce,  and  headed  him  'gainst  law  of  arms  ? 


SCENE  in.]         Edward  the  Second.  185 

For  which  thy  head  shall  overlook  the  rest, 
As  much  as  thou  in  rage  outwent'st  the  rest. 

War.  Tyrant,  I  scorn  thy  threats  and  menaces ; 
It  is  but  temporal  that  thou  canst  inflict. 

Lan.  The  worst  is  death,  and  better  die  to  live 
Than  live  in  infamy  under  such  a  king. 

Edw.  Away  with  them,  my  lord  of  Winchester  !        60 
These  lusty  leaders,  Warwick  and  Lancaster, 
I  charge  you  roundly — ofif  with  both  their  heads  ! 
Away  ! 

War.  Farewell,  vain  world  ! 

Lati.  Sweet  Mortimer,  farewell. 

Y.  Mor.   England,  unkind  to  thy  nobility, 
Groan  for  this  grief,  behold  how  thou  art  maimed  ! 

Edw.  Go,  take  that  haughty  Mortimer  to  the  Tower, 
There  see  him  safe  bestowed ;  and  for  the  rest, 
Do  speedy  execution  on  them  all. 
Begone !  70 

Y.  Mor.  What,  Mortimer  !  can  ragged  stony  walls 
Immure  thy  virtue  that  aspires  to  heaven  ? 
No,  Edward,  England's  scourge,  it  may  not  be ; 
Mortimer's  hope  surmounts  his  fortune  far. 

\The  captive  Barons  are  led  off. 

Edw.  Sound  drums  and  trumpets  !   March  with  me, 
my  friends, 
Edward  this  day  hath  crowned  him  king  anew. 

\Exeunt  all  except  Young  Spencer, 
Levune,  aiid  Baldock. 

Y.  Spen.  Levune,  the  trust  that  we  repose  in  thee, 
Begets  the  quiet  of  King  Edward's  land. 


1 86  Edward  the  Second,  [acthi. 

Therefore  begone  in  haste,  and  with  advice 

Bestow  that  pleasure  on  the  lords  of  France,  80 

That,  therewith  all  enchanted,  like  the  guard 

That  suffered  Jove  to  pass  in  showers  of  gold 

To  Danae,  all  aid  may  be  denied 

To  Isabel,  the  queen,  that  now  in  France 

Makes  friends,  to  cross  the  seas  with  her  young  son. 

And  step  into  his  father's  regiment.^ 

Levune.  That's  it  these  barons  and  the  subtle  queen 
Long  levelled  ^  at. 

Bal.  Yea,  but,  Levune,  thou  seest 
These  barons  lay  their  heads  on  blocks  together ; 
What  they  intend,  the  hangman  frustrates  clean.  90 

Levune.  Have  you  no  doubt,  my  lords,  I'll  clap  ^  so 
close 
Among  the  lords  of  France  with  England's  gold. 
That  Isabel  shall  make  her  plaints  in  vain, 
And  France  shall  be  obdurate  with  her  tears. 

Y.  Spen.  Then  make  for  France,  amain — Levune, 
away  ! 
Proclaim  King  Edward's  wars  and  victories. 

\Exeunt  o??ines. 

1  Rule.  2  Old  eds.  "leuied."  ^  Old  eds.  "claps  close." 


(     i87     ) 


ACT  THE  FOURTH. 

SCENE  I. 

Enter'^  Kent. 

Kent.  Fair  blows  the  wind  for  France ;  blow  gentle 
gale, 
Till  Edmund  be  arrived  for  England's  good  ! 
Nature,  yield  to  my  country's  cause  in  this. 
A  brother?  no,  a  butcher  of  thy  friends  ! 
Proud  Edward,  dost  thou  banish  me  thy  presence  ? 
But  111  to  France,  and  cheer  the  wronged  queen, 
And  certify  what  Edward's  looseness  is. 
Unnatural  king  !  to  slaughter  noblemen 
And  cherish  flatterers  !    Mortimer,  I  stay 
Thy  sweet  escape ;  stand  gracious,  gloomy  night, 
To  his  device. 

Enter  Young  Mortimer,  disguised. 

Y.  Mor.  Holla  !  who  walketh  there  ? 
Is't  you,  my  lord  ? 

Kent.   Mortimer,  'tis  I  \ 
But  hath  thy  potion  wrought  so  happily  ? 

1  Scene :  London,  near  the  Tower. 


1 88  Edward  the  Second.  [act  iv. 

Y.  Mor.  It  hath,  my  lord  ;  the  warders  all  asleep, 
I  thank  them,  gave  me  leave  to  pass  in  peace. 
But  hath  your  grace  got  shipping  unto  France  ? 

Kent.  Fear  it  not.  \Excunt. 

SCENE  II. 
Efiter  1  the  Queen  and  her  Son. 

Queen.  Ah,  boy  !  our  friends  do  fail  us  all  in  France  : 
The  lords  are  cruel,  and  the  king  unkind  \ 
What  shall  we  do  ?  - 

Prince.   Madam,  return  to  England, 
And  please  my  father  well,  and  then  a  fig 
For  all  my  uncle's  friendship  here  in  France. 
I  warrant  you,  I'll  win  his  highness  quickly  ; 
'A  loves  me  better  than  a  thousand  Spencers. 

Qiieen.  Ah,  boy,  thou  art  deceived,  at  least  in  this, 
To  think  that  we  can  yet  be  tuned  together ; 
No,  no,  we  jar  too  far.     Unkind  Valois  1  lo 

Unhappy  Isabel !  when  France  rejects, 
Whither,  oh  !  whither  dost  thou  bend  thy  steps  ? 

E7iter  Sir  John  Hainault. 

Sir  J.  Madam,  what  cheer  ? 

Queen.  Ah  !  good  Sir  John  of  Hainault, 
Never  so  cheerless,  nor  so  far  distrest. 

Sir  J.  I  hear,  sweet  lady,  of  the  king's  unkindness  ; 
But  droop  not,  madam  ;  noble  minds  contemn 

1  Scene:  Paris. 

2  Soeds.'isgS,  1622. — Ed.  1612  "goe." 


scENK  11.]  Edward  the  Second.  189 

Despair  :  will  your  grace  with  me  to  Hainault, 
And  there  stay  time's  advantage  with  your  son  ? 
How  say  you,  my  lord,  will  you  go  with  your  friends, 
And  shake  off  all  our  fortunes  equally?  20 

Prince.   So   pleaseth  ^    the  queen,  my  mother,  me    it 
likes  : 
The  king  of  England,  nor  the  court  of  France, 
Shall  have  me  from  my  gracious  mother's  side. 
Till  I  be  strong  enough  to  break  a  staff; 
And  then  have  at  the  proudest  Spencer's  head. 

Sir  J.  Well  said,  my  lord. 

Queen.    O,  iny  sweet    heart,    how    do    I    moan    thy 
wrongs, 
Yet  triumph  in  the  hope  of  thee,  my  joy  ! 
Ah,  sweet  Sir  John  !  even  to  the  utmost  verge 
Of  Europe,  or^  the  shore  of  Tanais,  30 

We  will  with  thee  to  Hainault — so  we  will : — 
The  marquis  is  a  noble  gentleman  ; 
His  grace,  I  dare  presume,  will  welcome  me. 
But  who  are  these  ? 

Enter  Kent  and  Young  Mortimer. 

Kent.  Madam,  long  may  you  live, 
Much  happier  than  your  friends  in  England  do  ! 

Queen.  Lord  Edmund  and  Lord  Mortimer  alive  ! 
Welcome  to  France  !  the  news  was  here,  my  lord, 
That  you  were  dead,  or  very  near  your  death. 

1  Mr.  Fleay  reads  "please,"  supposing  that  the  letters  th  are  repeated 
from  the  next  word. 

2  Dyce's  correction  "  on  "  seems  to  be  quite  unnecessary. 


190  Edward  the  Second.  [activ. 

K  Mo7:  Lady,  the  last  was  truest  of  the  twain  : 
But  Mortimer,  reserved  for  better  hap,  40 

Hath  shaken  off  the  thraldom  of  the  Tower, 
And  lives  t'  advance  your  standard,  good  my  lord. 

Prince.  How  mean  you?  and  the  king,  my  father,  lives  ! 
No,  my  Lord  Mortimer,  not  I,  I  trow. 

Quecfi.  Not,  son !   why  not  ?     I    would    it   were    no 
worse. 
But,  gentle  lords,  friendless  we  are  in  France. 

Y.  Mor.  Monsieur  le  Grand,  a  noble  friend  of  yours. 
Told  us,  at  our  arrival,  all  the  news  ; 
How  hard  the  nobles,  how  unkind  the  king 
Hath  showed  himself;  but,  madam,  right  makes  room  50 
Where  weapons  want ;  and,  though  a  many  friends 
Are  made  away,  as  Warwick,  Lancaster, 
And  others  of  our  party  ^  and  faction  ; 
Yet  have  we  friends,  assure  your  grace,  in  England 
Would  cast  up  caps,  and  clap  their  hands  for  joy, 
To  see  us  there,  appointed  ^  for  our  foes. 

Kent.  Would  all  were  well,  and  Edward  well  reclaimed, 
For  England's  honour,  peace,  and  quietness. 

Y.  Mor.  But  by  the  sword,  my  lord,  't  must  be  de- 
served ;  ^ 
The  king  will  ne'er  forsake  his  flatterers.  60 

Sir  J.  My  lords  of  England,  sith  th'  ungentle  king 
Of  France  refuseth  to  give  aid  of  arms 


1  Dyce  needlessly  reads  "  part. 

2  Equipped  to  meet  our  foes. 

3  Earned. 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  191 

To  this  distressed  queen  his  sister  here, 

Go  you  with  her  to  Hainault ;  doubt  ye  not, 

We  will  find  comfort,  money,  men  and  friends 

Ere  long,  to  bid  the  English  king  a  base.^ 

How  say,  young  prince  ?  what  think  you  of  the  match  ? 

Prince.  I  think  King  Edward  will  outrun  us  all. 

Queen.    Nay,  son,  not  so ;   and    you    must   not   dis- 
courage 
Your  friends,  that  are  so  forward  in  your  aid.  70 

Ke7it.  Sir  John  of  Hainault,  pardon  us,  I  pray ; 
These  comforts  that  you  give  our  woful  queen 
Bind  us  in  kindness  all  at  your  command. 

Queen.  Yea,  gentle  brother ;  and  the  God  of  heaven 
Prosper  your  happy  motion,  good  Sir  John. 

Y.  Mor.  This  noble  gentleman,  forward  in  arms. 
Was  born,  I  see,  to  be  our  anchor-hold. 
Sir  John  of  Hainault,  be  it  thy  renown. 
That  England's  queen,  and  nobles  in  distress. 
Have  been  by  thee  restored  and  comforted.  80 

Sir  J.  Madam,  along,  and  you  my  lord[s],  with  me. 
That  England's  peers  may  Hainault's  welcome  see. 

\_Exeunt. 

1  An  allusion  to  the  game  of  Prisoner's  Base.  To  "bid  a  base"  is 
for  a  player  to  run  into  the  centre  and  challenge  one  of  the  opposite 
party  to  pursue. 


192  Edward  the  Second.  [act  iv. 

SCENE  III. 

Enter'^  the,  King,  Arundel,-  the  tivo  Spencers,  with 
others. 

Edw.  Thus  after  many  threats  of  wrathful  war, 
Triumpheth  England's  Edward  with  his  friends; 
And  triumph,  Edward,  with  his  friends  uncontrolled  ! 
My  lord  of  Gloucester,  do  you  hear  the  news  ? 

Y.  Spen.  What  news,  my  lord  ? 

Ediv.  Why,  man,  they  say  there  is  great  execution 
Done  through  the  realm  ;  my  lord  of  Arundel, 
You  have  the  note,  have  you  not  ? 

Arun?  From  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  my  lord. 

Edw.  I  pray  let  us  see  it.     What  have  we  there  ?     10 
Read  it,  Spencer.  [Spencer  reads  their  names. 

Why,  so ;  they  barked  apace  a  month  ^  ago  : 
Now,  on  my  life,  they'll  neither  bark  nor  bite. 
Now,  sirs,  the  news  from  France  }  Gloucester,  I  trow, 
The  lords  of  France  love  England's  gold  so  well, 
As  Isabella  ^  gets  no  aid  from  thence. 
What  now  remains  ?  have  you  proclaimed,  my  lord, 
Reward  for  them  can  bring  in  Mortimer? 


1  Scene :  the  royal  palace,  London. 

"  Old  eds.  "  Alatr."  and  ^^  lilatreuis." — The  elder  Spencer  is  a  »«a/a 
persona.  Mr.  Fleay,  who  ousts  him  altogether  from  this  scene,  observes 
"  There  is  no  hint  of  Old  Spencer  being  on  the  stage  after  the  third 
act," — strangely  forgetting  that  he  is  introduced  in  the  fifth  scene  of  the 
present  act. 

3  Old  eds.  "Mair." 

4  So  ed.  1598. — Eds.  i5i2,  1622,  "not  long  ago." 

5  Old  eds.  "Isabell," 


SCENE  III.]  Edward  the  Second.  193 

Y.  Spen.  My  lord,  we  have ;  and  if  he  be  in  England, 
'A  will  be  had  ere  long,  I  doubt  it  not.  20 

Edw.  If,  dost  thou  say  ?     Spencer,  as  true  as  death, 
He  is  in  England's  ground  ;  our  portmasters 
Are  not  so  careless  of  their  king's  command. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

How  now,  what  news  with  thee  ?  from   whence  come 
these  ? 
Mess.  Letters,  my  lord,  and  tidings  forth  of  France, 
To  you,  my  lord  of  Gloucester,  from  Levune. 
Edtu.  Read. 

[Spencer  reads  the  letter^ 

"  My  duty  to  your  honottr  premised,  &•€.,  I  have,  according  to 
instructions  in  that  behalf,  dealt  with  the  King  of  France  his  lords, 
and  effected,  that  the  queen,  all  discontented  and  discomforted,  is  gone. 
Whither,  if  you  ask,  with  Sir  John  of  Hainault,  brother  to  the  mar- 
quis, into  Flanders  :  with  them  are  gone  Lord  Edmund,  and  the 
Lord  Mortimer,  having  in  their  company  divers  of  your  nation,  and 
others ;  and,  as  constant  report  goeth,  they  intend  to  give  King 
Edward  battle  in  England,  sooner  than  he  can  look  for  them  :  this 
is  all  the  news  of  import. 

Your  honour'' s  in  all  service,  Levune."     36 

Edw.  Ah,  villains  !  hath  that  Mortimer  escaped  ? 
With  him  is  Edmund  gone  associate  ? 
And  will  Sir  John  of  Hainault  lead  the  round  ? 
Welcome,  a  God's  name,  madam,  and  your  son  ;  40 

England  shall  welcome  you  and  all  your  rout. 
Gallop  apace,^  bright  Phoebus,  through  the  sky, 

1  Cf,  Romeo  and  Juliet,  iii,  2: — "Gallop  apace,  you  fierj'-footed 
steeds,"  &c. 

VOL.    11.  N 


194  Edward  the  Second.  [act  iv. 

And  dusky  night,  in  rusty  iron  car, 

Between  you  both  shorten  the  time,  I  pray, 

That  I  may  see  that  most  desired  day, 

When  we  may  meet  these  traitors  in  the  field. 

Ah,  nothing  grieves  me,  but  my  little  boy 

Is  thus  misled  to  countenance  their  ills. 

Come,  friends,  to  Bristow,  there  to  make  us  strong  ; 

And,  winds,  as  equal  be  to  bring  them  in,  50 

As  you  injurious  were  to  bear  them  forth  !  {Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV. 

Ejiter'^  the  Queen  her  Son,  Kent,  Mortimer,  and  Sir 
John  Hainault. 

Queen.  Now,  lords,   our  loving  friends  and   country- 
men. 
Welcome  to  England  all,  with  prosperous  winds  ! 
Our  kindest  friends  in  Belgia  have  we  left. 
To  cope  with  friends  at  home ;  a  heavy  case 
When  force  to  force  is  knit,  and  sword  and  glaive 
In  civil  broils  make  kin  and  countrymen 
Slaughter  themselves  in  others,  and  their  sides 
With  their  own  weapons  gored  !     But  what's  the  help  ? 
Misgoverned  kings  are  cause  of  all  this  wreck  ; 
And,  Edward,  thou  art  one  among  them  all,  10 

Whose  looseness  hath  betrayed  thy  land  to  spoil. 
Who  made  the  channel  -  overflow  with  blood 

1  Scene  :  the  neighbourhood  of  Harwich. 
*  Kennel. 


SCENE  v.]  Edward  the  Second.  195 

Of  thine  own  people  ;  patron  shouldst  thou  be, 
But  thou 

Y.  Mor.  Nay,  madam,  if  you  be  a  warrior, 
You  must  not  grow  so  passionate  in  speeches. 
Lords, 

Sith  that  we  are  by  sufferance  of  heaven 
Arrived,  and  armed  in  this  prince's  right, 
Here  for  our  country's  cause  swear  we  to  him  20 

All  homage,  fealty,  and  forwardness  ; 
And  for  the  open  wrongs  and  injuries 
Edward  hath  done  to  us,  his  queen  and  land, 
We  come  in  arms  to  wreak  it  with  the  sword  ; 
That  England's  queen  in  peace  may  repossess 
Her  dignities  and  honours  :  and  withal 
We  may  remove  these  flatterers  from  the  king, 
That  havoc  England's  wealth  and  treasury. 

Sir  J.  Sound  trumpets,  my  lord,  and  forward  let  us 
march. 
Edward  will  think  we  come  to  flatter  him.  30 

Kent.  I  would  he  never  had  been  flattered  more  ! 

\^Exeitnt. 

SCENE  V. 

Enter  ^  the  King,  Baldock,  and  Young  Spencer,  flying 
about  the  stage. 

Y.  Spen.  Fly,  fly,  my  lord  1  the  queen  is  over-strong ; 
Her  friends  do  multiply,  and  yours  do  fail. 
Shape  we  our  course  to  Ireland,  there  to  breathe. 

1  Scene  :  the  neighbourhood  of  Bristol. 


196  Edward  the  Second.  [act  iv. 

Edw.  What !  was  I  born  to  fly  and  run  away, 
And  leave  the  Mortimers  conquerors  behind  ? 
Give  me  my  horse,  and  let's  re'nforce  our  troops  : 
And  in  this  bed  of  honour  die  with  fame. 

Bald.  O  no,  my  lord,  this  princely  resolution 
Fits  not  the  time  ;  away  !  we  are  pursued.  \Exe2int. 

Enter  Kent  alone,  with  his  sword  and  target. 
Kent.  This  way  he  fled,  but  I  am  come  too  late.        10 
Edward,  alas  !  my  heart  relents  for  thee. 
Proud  traitor,  Mortimer,  why  dost  thou  chase 
Thy  lawful  king,  thy  sovereign,  with  tliy  sword  ? 
Vild  wretch  !  and  why  hast  thou,  of  all  unkind, 
Borne  arms  against  thy  brother  and  thy  king  ? 
Rain  showers  of  vengeance  on  my  cursed  head, 
Thou  God,  to  whom  in  justice  it  belongs 
To  punish  this  unnatural  revolt ! 
Edward,  this  Mortimer  aims  at  thy  life  ! 
O  fly  him,  then  !  but,  Edmund,  calm  this  rage,  20 

Dissemble,  or  thou  diest ;  for  Mortimer 
And  Isabel  do  kiss,  while  they  conspire  : 
And  yet  she  bears  a  face  of  love  forsooth. 
Fie  on  that  love  that  hatcheth  death  and  hate  ! 
Edmund,  away ;  Bristow  to  Longshanks'  blood 
Is  false  ;  be  not  found  single  for  suspect  : 
Proud  Mortimer  pries  near  unto  thy  walks. 

Enter  the  Queen,  Mortimer,  the  Young  Prince,  and 
Sir  John  Hainault. 
Queen.  Successful  ^  battle  gives  the  God  of  kings 
1  So  ed.  1622. — Eds.  1598,  1612,  "  successfulls, " 


SCENE  v.]  Edward  the  Second.  K^^y 

To  them  that  fight  in  right,  and  fear  his  wrath. 

Since  then  successfully  we  have  prevailed,  30 

Thanked  be  heaven's  great  architect,  and  you. 

Ere  farther  we  proceed,  my  noble  lords, 

We  here  create  our  well-beloved  son, 

Of  love  and  care  unto  his  royal  person, 

Lord  Warden  of  the  realm,  and  sith  the  fates 

Have  made  his  father  so  infortunate, 

Deal  you,  my  lords,  in  this,  my  loving  lords, 

As  to  your  wisdoms  fittest  seems  in  all. 

Kent.  Madam,  without  offence,  if  I  may  ask, 
How  will  you  deal  with  Edward  in  his  fall  ?  40 

Prince.  Tell   me,  good   uncle,  what  Edward  do  you 
mean  ? 

Ke>it.  Nephew,  your  father  :  I  dare  not  call  him  king. 

Mor.  My  lord  of  Kent,  what  needs  these  questions  ? 
'Tis  not  in  her  controlment,  nor  in  ours. 
But  as  the  realm  and  parliament  shall  please. 
So  shall  your  brother  be  disposed  of — 
I  like  not  this  relenting  mood  in  Edmund. 
Madam,  'tis  good  to  look  to  him  betimes. 

[Aside  to  the  Queen. 

Queen.   My  lord,  the  Mayor  of  Bristow  knows  our  mind. 

Y.  Mor.  Yea,  madam,  and  they  scape  not  easily       50 
That  fled  the  field. 

Queen.  Baldock  is  with  the  king. 
A  goodly  chancellor,  is  he  not,  my  lord  ? 

Sir  J.  So  are  the  Spencers,  the  father  and  the  son. 

Kent.^  This  Edward  is  the  ruin  of  the  realm, 

^  As  in  1.  21  Kent  determined  to  "dissemble,"  I  have  not  changed 


198  Edward  the  Second.  [activ. 

Enfer  Rice  ap  Howell,  and  f/ie  Mayor  of  Bristow,  wi'fk 
the  Elder  Spencer /m^?/(?r. 

Rice.  God  save  Queen  Isabel,  and  her  princely  son  ! 
Madam,  the  mayor  and  citizens  of  Bristow, 
In  sign  of  love  and  duty  to  this  presence, 
Present  by  me  this  traitor  to  the  state, 
Spencer,  the  father  to  that  wanton  Spencer, 
That,  like  the  lawless  Catiline  of  Rome,  60 

Revelled  in  England's  wealth  and  treasury. 

Queen.  We  thank  you  all. 

Y.  Mor.  Your  loving  care  in  this 
Deserveth  princely  favours  and  rewards. 
But  where's  the  king  and  the  other  Spencer  fled  ? 

Rice.  Spencer  the  son,  created  Earl  of  Gloucester, 
Is  with  that  smooth-tongued  scholar  Baldock  gone, 
And  shipped  but  late  for  Ireland  with  the  king. 

Y.  Mor.  Some  whirlwind  fetch  them  back  or  sink  them 
all !  {Aside. 

They  shall  be  started  thence,  I  doubt  it  not. 

Prince.  Shall  I  not  see  the  king  my  father  yet  ?         70 

Kent.  Unhappy  's   Edward,  chased   from    England's 
bounds.  \Aside. 

Sir  J.  Madam,  what  resteth,  why  stand  you  in  a  muse? 

Queen.   I  rue  my  lord's  ill-fortune ;  but  alas  ! 
Care  of  my  country  called  me  to  this  war. 

the  prefix  of  the  old  eds.     Dyce  gives  the  words  to  Y.  Mor.     Mr.  Fleay 
prints — 

"  Kent.  This,  Edward,  is  the  ruin,  &c. 

\To  the  Prince  J''' 


SCENE  VI.]  Edward  the  Second.  199 

Y.  Mor.  Madam,  have  done  with  care  and  sad  com- 
plaint ; 
Your  king  hath  wronged  your  country  and  himself, 
And  we  must  seek  to  right  it  as  we  may. 
Meaft^hile,  have  hence  this  rebel  to  the  block. 

E.  Speii.  Rebfel  is  he  that  fights  against  the  prince  ; 
So  fought  ijot  they  that  fought  in  Edward's  right.  80 

Y.  Mor.-  Take  him   away,  he   prates ;   you,  Rice  ap 
Howell, 
Shall  do  good  servic^  to  her  majesty, 
Being  of  countenance' in  your  country  here, 
*To  follow  these  rebellio.us  runagates. 
We  in  meanwhile,  madam,  must  take  advice, 
How  Baldack,  Spencer,  and  their  complices, 
May  in  their  fall  be  followed  to  their  end. 

\Exeiint  o/nnes. 

SCENE  VI. 

Enter  ^  the  Abbot,  Monks,  Edward,  Young  Spencer, 
and  Baldock. 

Abbot.  Have  you  no  doubt,  my  lord ;  have  you  no  fear; 
As  silent  and  as  careful  we  will  be, 
To  keep  your  royal  person  safe  with  us. 
Free  from  suspect,  and  fell  invasion 
Of  such  as  have  your  majesty  in  chase, 
Yourself,  and  those  your  chosen  company. 
As  danger  of  this  stormy  time  requires. 

Edw.  Father,  thy  face  should  harbour  no  deceit. 
O  !  hadst  thou  ever  been  a  king,  thy  heart, 

1  Scene  :  the  Abbey  of  Neath,  Glamorganshire. 


200  Edward  the  Second.  [act  iv. 

Pierced  deeply  with  [a]  sense  of  my  distress,  lo 

Could  not  but  take  compassion  of  my  state. 

Stately  and  proud,  in  riches  and  in  train, 

Whilom  I  was,  powerful,  and  full  of  pomp  : 

But  what  is  he  whom  rule  and  empery 

Have  not  in  life  or  death  made  miserable  ? 

Come,  Spencer;  come,  Baldock,  come,  sit  down  by  me; 

Make  trial  now  of  that^  philosophy, 

That  in  our  famous  nurseries  of  arts 

Thou  suck'dst  from  Plato  and  from  Aristotle. 

Father,  this  life  contemplative  is  heaven.  20 

O  that  I  might  this  life  in  quiet  lead  ! 

But  we,  alas  !  are  chased  ;  and  you,  my  friends, 

Your  lives  and  my  dishonour  they  pursue. 

Yet,  gentle  monks,  for  treasure,  gold  nor  fee, 

Do  you  betray  us  and  our  company. 

Monk.  Your  grace  may  sit  secure,  if  none  but  we 
Do  wot  of  your  abode. 

Y.  Spen.  Not  one  alive,  but  shrewdly  I  suspect 
A  gloomy  fellow  in  a  mead  below. 

'A  gave  a  long  look  after  us,  my  lord ;  30 

And  all  the  land  I  know  is  up  in  arms, 
Arms  that  pursue  our  lives  with  deadly  hate. 

Bald.  We  were  embarked  for  Ireland,  wretched  we  ! 
With  awkward  winds  and  sore^  tempests  driven 
To  fall  on  shore,  and  here  to  pine  in  fear 
Of  Mortimer  and  his  confederates. 

Edw.  Mortimer  !  who  talks  of  Mortimer  ? 

1  So  ed.  1598.— Omitted  in  ed.  1612.     (Ed.  1622  "thy.") 
'  So  eds.  1598,  1612. — Ed.  1622  "with  sore"  (and  so  Dyce). 


SCENE  VI.]  Edward  the  Second.  201 

Who  wounds  me  with  the  name  of  Mortimer, 

That  bloody  man  ?  Good  father,  on  thy  lap 

Lay  I  this  head,  laden  with  mickle  care.  40 

O  might  I  never  ope  ^  these  eyes  again  ! 

Never  again  lift  up  this  drooping  head  ! 

0  never  more  lift  up  this  dying  heart ! 

K  Spen.  Look  up,  my  lord. — Baldock,  this  drowsiness 
Betides  no  good ;  here  even  we  are  betrayed. 

Enter,  with  Welsh  hooks,  Rice  ap  Howell,  a  Mower,  and 
the  Earl  of  Leicester. 

Mow.  Upon  my  life,  these  be  the  men  ye  seek. 

Rice.  Fellow,  enough. — My  lord,  I  pray  be  short, 
A  fair  commission  warrants  what  we  do. 

Leices.  The  queen's  commission,  urged  by  Mortimer  ; 
What  cannot  gallant  Mortimer  with  the  queen  ?  50 

Alas  !  see  where  he  sits,  and  hopes  unseen 
To  escape  their  hands  that  seek  to  reave  his  life. 
Too  true  it  is,  Qiietn  -  dies  vidit  veniens  superbiim, 
Hunc  dies  vidit  fugiens  jacejitem. 
But,  Leicester,  leave  to  grow  so  passionate. 
Spencer  and  Baldock,  by  no  other  names, 

1  [do]  arrest  you  of  high  treason  here. 
Stand  not  on  titles,  but  obey  th'  arrest ; 
'Tis  in  the  name  of  Isabel  the  queen. 

My  lord,  why  droop  you  thus  ?  60 

Edw.  O  day  the  last  of  all  my  bliss  on  earth  ! 

1  So  eds.  1612,  1622.  —  Ed.  1598  "open." 
^   Seneca  Thyestes,  613. 


202  Edward  the  Second.  [act  iv. 

Centre  of  all  misfortune  !     O  my  stars, 
Why  do  you  lour  unkindly  on  a  king? 
Come[s]  Leicester,  then,  in  Isabella's  name 
To  take  my  life,  my  company  from  me  ? 
Here,  man,  rip  up  this  panting  breast  of  mine. 
And  take  my  heart  in  rescue  of  my  friends  ! 

Rice.  Away  with  them  ! 

Y.  Spen.  It  may  become  thee  yet 
To  let  us  take  our  farewell  of  his  grace. 

Abbot.  My  heart  with  pity  earns  ^  to  see  this  sight,    70 
A  king  to  bear  these  words  and  proud  commands. 

Edw.  Spencer,  ah,  sweet  Spencer,  thus  then  must  we 
part? 

Y.  Spen.  We  must,  my  lonl,  so  will  the  angry  heavens. 

Ed2V.  Nay,  so  will  hell  and  cruel  Mortimer  ; 
The  gentle  heavens  have  not  to  do  in  this. 

Bald.  My  lord,  it  is  in  vain  to  grieve  or  storm. 
Here  humbly  of  your  grace  we  take  our  leaves ; 
Our  lots  are  cast ;  I  fear  me,  so  is  thine. 

Edtv.  In  heaven  we  may,  in  earth  ne'er  shall  we  meet : 
And,  Leicester,  say,  what  shall  become  of  us  ?  80 

Leices.  Your  majesty  must  go  to  Killingworth. 

Edtv.  Must !  it  is  somewhat  hard,  when  kings  must  go. 

Leices.  Here  is  a  litter  ready  for  your  grace. 
That  waits  your  pleasure,  and  the  day  grows  old. 

Rice.  As  good  be  gone,  as  stay  and  be  benighted. 

Edw.  A  litter  hast  thou  ?  lay  me  in  a  hearse, 
And  to  the  gates  of  hell  convey  me  hence ; 

1  Old  form  of  "  yearns." 


SCENE  VI.]  Edzvard  the  Second.  203 

Let  Pluto's  bells  ring  out  my  fatal  knell, 

And  hags  howl  for  my  death  at  Charon's  shore, 

For  friends  hath  Edward  none,  but  these  and  these  :  ^  90 

And  these  must  die  under  a  tyrant's  sword. 

Rice.  My  lord,  be  going ;  care  not  for  these. 
For  we  shall  see  them  shorter  by  the  heads. 

Ed7v.  Well,  that  shall  be,  shall  be  :  part  we  must ! 
Sweet  Spencer,  gentle  Baldock,  part  we  must ! ' 
Hence  feigned  weeds  !  unfeigned  are  my  woes ; 

\Casts  off  his  disguise. 
Father,  farewell !  Leicester,  thou  stay'st  for  me, 
And  go  I  must.     Life,  farewell,  with  my  friends. 

"[Exeunt  Edward  and  Leicester. 

Y.  Spen.  O  !  is  he  gone  ?  is  noble  Edward  gone  ? 
Parted  from  hence  }  never  to  see  us  more  ?  100 

Rent,  sphere  of  heaven  !  and,  fire,  forsake  thy  orb  ! 
Earth,  melt  to  air  !  gone  is  my  sovereign. 
Gone,  gone,  alas  !  never  to  make  return. 

Bald.  Spencer,  I  see  our  souls  are  fleeting  hence ; 
We  are  deprived  the  sunshine  of  our  life  : 
Make  for  a  new  life,  man  ;  throw  up  thy  eyes, 
And  heart  and  hands  to  heaven's  immortal  throne ; 
Pay  nature's  debt  with  cheerful  countenance ; 
Reduce  we  all  our  lessons  unto  this, 


1  So  old  eds.     The  repetition  of  "and  these"  in  the  next  hne  is 
certainly  suspicious.     Dyce  proposed 

"  For  friends  hath  hapless  Edward  none  but  these, 
And  these  must  die,"  &c. 
Mr.  Fleay's  suggestion  that  "these  and  these  "  are  "  the  '  hags  '  and 
'  Spencer  and  Baldock,'  "  seems  very  questionable. 


204  Edward  the  Second.  [act  iv. 

To  die,  sweet  Spencer,  therefore  live  we  all;  no 

Spencer,  all  live  to  die,  and  rise  to  fall. 

Rice}  Come,  come,  keep  these  preachments  till  you 
come  to  the  place  appointed.  You,  and  such  as  you  are, 
have  made  wise  work  in  England  ;  will  your  lordships 
away  ? 

Moiv.  Your  Lordship,  I  trust,  will  remember  me  ? 

Rice.  Remember  thee  ?  Fellow,  what  else  ?  Follow 
me  to  the  town.  \Exeimt. 


1  Mr.  Fleay  prints  this  speech  as  verse  : 

"Come,  come,  keep  these  preachments  till  you  come 
To  th'  place  appointed.     You,  and  such  as  you  are, 
Have  made  wise  work  in  England  ;  will  you  away." 
The  lines  hobble  badly. 


(       205       ) 


ACT  THE  FIFTH. 

SCENE  I. 

Enter'^  tJu  King,  Leicester,  the  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, and  Trussel. 

Leices.  Be  patient,  good  my  lord,  cease  to  lament. 
Imagine  Killingworth  Castle  were  your  court, 
And  that  you  lay  for  pleasure  here  a  space. 
Not  of  compulsion  or  necessity. 

Edw.  Leicester,  if  gentle  words  might  comfort  me, 
Thy  speeches  long  ago  had  eased  my  sorrows  3 
For  kind  and  loving  hast  thou  always  been. 
The  griefs  of  private  men  are  soon  allayed. 
But  not  of  kings.     The  forest  deer,  being  struck, 
Runs  to  an  herb  ^  that  closeth  up  the  wounds  ;  10 

1  Scene  :  Kenihvorth  Castle. 

2  Dittany.    Cf.  Virgil,  Aen.  xii.  411-15  : — 

' '  Hie  Venus,  indigno  nati  concussa  dolore, 
Dictamnum  genitrix  Cretaea  carpit  ab  Ida, 
Puberibus  caulem  foliis  et  flore  comantem 
PuqDureo  :  fion  ilia  feris  incognita  capris 
Gramina  cum  tergo  volucres  hausere  sagittcE." 
Elizabethan  poets  are  fond  of  alluding  to  the  virtues  of  this  herb.     Cf. 
(one  of  many  instances)  Peele's  Arraigntnent  of  Paris,  m.  i  : — 

"And  whither  wends  yon  thriveless  swain?  like  to  the  stricken  deer, 
Seeks  he  dictamnutn  for  his  wound  within  our  forest  here?" 


2o6  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

But,  when  the  imperial  lion's  flesh  is  gored, 
He  rends  and  tears  it  with  his  wrathful  paw, 
[And]  highly  scorning  that  the  lowly  earth 
Should  drink  his  blood,  mounts  up  to  the  air. 
And  so  it  fares  with  me,  whose  dauntless  mind 
The  ambitious  Mortimer  would  seek  to  curb, 
And  that  unnatural  queen,  false  Isabel, 
That  thus  hath  pent  and  mewed  me  in  a  prison ; 
For  such  outrageous  passions  cloy  my  soul, 
As  with  the  wings  of  rancour  and  disdain,  20 

Full  oft[en]  am  I  soaring  up  to  heaven. 
To  plain  me  to  the  gods  against  them  both. 
But  when  I  call  to  mind  I  am  a  king, 
Methinks  I  should  revenge  me  of  my  wrongs. 
That  Mortimer  and  Isabel  have  done. 
But  what  are  kings,  when  regiment  ^  is  gone, 
But  perfect  shadows  in  a  sunshine  day  ? 
My  nobles  rule,  I  bear  the  name  of  king; 
I  wear  the  crown,  but  am  controlled  by  them, 
By  Mortimer,  and  my  unconstant  queen,  30 

Who  spots  my  nuptial  bed  with  infamy  ; 
Whilst  I  am  lodged  within  this  cave  of  care, 
Where  sorrow  at  my  elbow  still  attends, 
To  company  my  heart  with  sad  laments, 
That  bleeds  within  me  for  this  strange  exchange- 
But  tell  me,  must  I  now  resign  my  crown, 
To  make  usurping  Mortimer  a  king  ? 

Wmch.  Your  grace  mistakes ;  it  is  for  England's  good, 
And  princely  Edward's  right  we  crave  the  crown. 

1  Rule. 


SCENE  I.]  Edward  the  Second.  207 

Edw.  No,  'tis  for  Mortimer,  not  Edward's  head  ;      40 
For  he's  a  lamb,  encompassed  by  wolves, 
Which  in  a  moment  will  abridge  his  life. 
But  if  proud  Mortimer  do  wear  this  crown. 
Heavens  turn  it  to  a  blaze  of  quenchless  fire  !  ^ 
Or  like  the  snaky  wreath  of  Tisiphon, 
Engirt  the  temples  of  his  hateful  head ; 
So  shall  not  England's  vine  -  be  perished. 
But  Edward's  name  survives,^  though  Edward  dies. 

Leices.  My  lord,  why  waste  you  thus  the  time  away  ? 
They  stay  your  answer ;  will  you  yield  your  crown  1      50 

Edw,  Ah,  Leicester,  weigh  how  hardly  I  can  brook 
To  lose  my  crown  and  kingdom  without  cause  ; 
To  give  ambitious  Mortimer  my  right, 
That  like  a  mountain  overwhelms  my  bliss, 
In  which  extreme  my  mind  here  murdered  is. 
But  what  the  heavens  appoint,  I  must  obey  ! 
Here,  take  my  crown  ;  the  life  of  Edward  too  ; 

{^Taking  off  the  crowji. 
Two  kings  in  England  cannot  reign  at  once. 
But  stay  awhile,  let  me  be  *  king  till  night. 
That  I  may  gaze  upon  this  ghttering  crown  ;  60 

So  shall  my  eyes  receive  their  last  content, 
My  head,  the  latest  honour  due  to  it. 
And  jointly  both  yield  up  their  wished  right. 


1  An  allusion  (as  Steevens  observed)  to  Creusa's  crown  in  Euripides' 
Medea. 

2  Old  eds.  "vines." 

3  Ed.  1622  "survive"  (and  so  Dyce). 

4  So  eds.  1612,  1622. — Omitted  in  ed.  1598. 


2o8  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

Continue  ever  ihou  celestial  sun  ; 

Let  never  silent  night  possess  this  clime  : 

Stand  still  you  watches  of  the  element ; 

All  times  and  seasons,  rest  you  at  a  stay, 

That  Edward  may  be  still  fair  England's  king  ! 

But  day's  bright  beam  doth  vanish  fast  away, 

And  needs  I  must  resign  my  wished  crown.  70 

Inhuman  creatures  !  nursed  with  tiger's  milk  ! 

Why  gape  you  for  your  sovereign's  overthrow  ! 

My  diadem  I  mean,  and  guiltless  life. 

See,  monsters,  see,  I'll  wear  my  crown  again  ! 

\He  puts  on  the  cj'own. 
What,  fear  you  not  the  fury  of  your  king  ? 
But,  hapless  Edward,  thou  art  fondly  led  : 
They  pass  not  for  thy  frowns  as  late  they  did, 
But  seek  to  make  a  new-elected  king ; 
Which  fills  my  mind  with  strange  despairing  thoughts, 
Which  thoughts  are  martyred  with  endless  torments,    80 
And  in  this  torment  comfort  find  I  none, 
But  that  I  feel  the  crown  upon  my  head  ; 
And  therefore  let  me  wear  it  yet  awhile. 

Triis.  My   lord,   the   parliament   must  have  present 
news. 
And  therefore  say,  will  you  resign  or  no  ? 

\The  King  rageth. 

Edw.  I'll  not  resign,  but  whilst  I  live  ^  [be  king]. 
Traitors,  be  gone  !  and  join  you  with  Mortimer  ! 
Elect,  conspire,  install,  do  what  you  will : — 
Their  blood  and  yours  shall  seal  these  treacheries  ! 

1  Ed.  1612  '•''not  whilst  I  live." 


SCENE  I.]  Edward  the  Second.  209 

Winch.  This  answer  we'll  return,  and  so  farewell.      90 

Leices.  Call  them  again,  my  lord,  and  speak  them  lair ; 
For  if  they  go,  the  prince  shall  lose  his  right. 

Edw.  Call  thou  them  back,  I  have  no  power  to  speak. 

Leices.  My  lord,  the  king  is  willing  to  resign. 

Winch.  If  he  be  not,  let  him  choose. 

Edw.  O  would  I  might !  but  heavens  and  earth  con- 
spire 
To  make  me  miserable  !     Here  receive  my  crown  ; 
Receive  it  ?  no,  these  innocent  hands  of  mine 
Shall  not  be  guilty  of  so  foul  a  crime. 
He  of  you  all  that  most  desires  my  blood,  joo 

And  will  be  called  the  murderer  of  a  king. 
Take  it.     What,  are  you  moved  ?  pity  you  me  ? 
Then  send  for  unrelenting  Mortimer, 
And  Isabel,  whose  eyes,  being  turned  to  steel. 
Will  sooner  sparkle  fire  than  shed  a  tear. 
Yet  stay,  for  rather  than  I'll  look  on  them, 
Here,  here  !  [^He  gives  them  the  crown. 

Now,  sweet  God  of  heaven, 
Make  me  despise  this  transitory  pomp. 
And  sit  for  aye  enthronized  in  heaven  ! 
Come,  death,  and  with  thy  fingers  close  my  eyes,         no 
Or  if  I  live,  let  me  forget  myself.^ 

Winch.  My  lord. 

Edw.   Call  me  not  lord  ;  away — out  of  my  sight : 
Ah,  pardon  me  :  grief  makes  me  lunatic  ! 

^  In  old  eds.  after  this  line  the  entrance  of  Berkeley  is  marked.  I 
have  followed  Dyce  in  giving  the  words  "My  lord"  to  Winchester, 
and  in  placing  Berkeley's  entrance  after  line  127. 

VOL.   II.  O 


2IO  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

I-et  not  that  Mortimer  protect  my  son  ; 

More  safety  there  is  in  a  tiger's  jaws, 

Than  his  embracements — bear  this  to  the  queen, 

Wet  with  my  tears,  and  dried  again  with  sighs  ; 

\Gives  a  handkerchief. 
If  with  the  sight  thereof  she  be  not  moved, 
P.eturn  it  back  and  dip  it  in  my  blood.  120 

Commend  me  to  my  son,  and  bid  him  rule 
Better  than  I.     Yet  how  have  I  trangressed, 
Uniess  it  be  with  too  much  clemency? 

Trus.  And  thus  most  humbly  do  we  take  our  leave. 

\Exeunt  Bishop  and  Trussel. 

Edw.  Farewell ;  I  know  the  next  news  that  they  bring 
Will  be  my  death  ;  and  welcome  shall  it  be ; 
To  wretched  men,  death  is  felicity. 

Enter  Berkeley,  who  gives  a  paper  to  Leicester. 

Leices.  Another  post  !  what  news  brings  he  ? 

Edw.  Such  news  as  I  expect — come,  Berkeley,  come. 
And  tell  thy  message  to  my  naked  breast.  130 

Berk.   My  lord,  think  not  a  thought  so  villainous 
Can  harbour  in  a  man  of  noble  birth. 
To  do  your  highness  service  and  devoir, 
And  save  you  from  your  foes,  Berkeley  would  die. 

Leices.  My  lord,  the  council  of  ^  the  queen  commands 
That  I  resign  my  charge. 

Edw.  And  who  must  keep  me  now  ?     Must  you,  my 
lord? 

1  Eds.  1612,  1622,  "and." 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  2 1 1 

Berk.  Ay,  my  most  gracious  lord — so  'tis  decreed. 
Ediv.  [faking  the  paper.']  By  Mortimer,  whose  name  is 
written  here  ! 
Well  may  I  rent  his  name  that  rends  my  heart  !  140 

[Tears  it. 
This  poor  revenge  has  something  eased  my  mind. 
So  may  his  limbs  be  torn,  as  is  this  paper  ! 
Hear  me,  immortal  Jove,  and  grant  it  too  ! 

Berk.  Your  grace  must  hence  with  me  to  Berkeley 

straight. 
Edw.  Whither  you  will ;  all  places  are  alike. 
And  every  earth  is  fit  for  burial. 

Leices.  Favour  him,  my  lord,  as  much  as  lieth  in  you. 
Berk.   Even  so  betide  my  soul  as  I  use  him. 
Edw.   Mine  enemy  hath  pitied  my  estate. 
And  that's  the  cause  that  I  am  now  removed.  150 

Berk.  And  thinks  your  grace  that   Berkeley  will  be 

cruel ? 
Edw.   I  know  not ;  but  of  this  am  I  assured. 
That  death  ends  all,  and  I  can  die  but  once. 
Leicester,  farewell ! 

Leices.  Not  yet,  my  lord  ;  I'll  bear  you  on  your  way. 

[Exeunt  omues. 

SCENE  II. 

Enter  ^  Mortimer  and  Queen  Isabel. 

Y.  Mor.  Fair  Isabel,  now  have  we  our  desire  ; 
The  proud  corrupters  of  the  light-brained  king 

1  Scene  :  the  royal  palace,  London. 


2 1 2  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

Have  done  their  homage  to  the  lofty  gallows, 

And  he  himself  lies  in  captivity. 

Be  ruled  by  me,  and  we  will  rule  the  realm. 

In  any  case  take  heed  of  childish  fear, 

For  now  we  hold  an  old  wolf  ^  by  the  ears, 

That,  if  he  slip,  will  seize  upon  us  both, 

And  gripe  the  sorer,  being  grip'd  himself. 

Think  therefore,  madam,  that  [it]  imports  us^  much     lo 

To  erect  your  son  with  all  the  speed  we  may, 

And  that  I  be  protector  over  him  ; 

For  our  behoof,  'twill  ^  bear  the  greater  sway 

Whenas  a  king's  name  shall  be  under  writ. 

Queen.  Sweet  Mortimer,  the  life  of  Isabel, 
Be  thou  persuaded  that  I  love  thee  well. 
And  therefore,  so  the  prince  my  son  be  safe. 
Whom  I  esteem  as  dear  as  these  mine  eyes, 
Conclude  against  his  father  what  thou  wilt, 
And  I  myself  will  willingly  subscribe.  20 

Y.  Mor.  First  would  I  hear  news  he  were  deposed, 
And  then  let  me  alone  to  handle  him. 

Enter  Messenger. 

Letters  !  from  whence  ? 

Mess.   From  Killingworth,  my  lord. 

Queen.  How  fares  my  lord  the  king? 

Mess.  In  health,  madam,  but  full  of  pensiveness. 

Queen.  Alas,  poor  soul,  would  I  could  ease  his  grief  I 

1  An  allusion  to  the  Greek  proverb,  tov  \vkov  tCiv  &tuv  ^^w. 

2  Seeds.  1612,  1622. — Ed.  1598  "  as  " 

5  So  eds.  1612,  1622, — Ed.  1598    'will." 


SCENE  H.]  Edward  the  Second.  2 1 3 

Enter  Winchester^  with  the  Crown. 

Thanks,  gentle  Winchester.     [T'tf' M<?  Messenger.]    Sirrah, 
be  gone.  \Exit  Messenger. 

Winch.  The  king  hath  willingly  resigned  his  crown. 

Queen.  O  happy  news  !  send  for  the  prince,  my  son. 

Winch.   Further,    or  this    letter  ^    was    sealed,    Lord 
Berkeley  came,  30 

So  that  he  now  is  gone  from  Killingworth  ; 
And  we  have  heard  that  Edmund  laid  a  plot 
To  set  his  brother  free  ;  no  more  but  so. 
The  Lord  of  Berkeley  is  so  [as  ?]  pitiful 
As  Leicester  that  had  charge  of  him  before. 

Queen.  Then  let  some  other  be  his  guardian. 

Y.  Mor.  Let  me  alone,  here  is  the  privy  seal. 

\^Exit  Winchester. 
Who's  there  ? — call  hither  Gurney  and  Matrevis. 
To  dash  the  heavy-headed  Edmund's  drift, 
Berkeley  shall  be  discharged,  the  king  removed,  40 

And  none  but  we  shall  know  where  he  lietb.^ 

Queen.  But,  Mortimer,  as  long  as  he  survives, 
What  safety  rests  for  us,  or  for  my  son  ? 

Y.  Mor.  Speak,  shall  he  presently  be  despatched  and 
die? 

1  The  entrance  and  exit  of  Winchester  are  not  marked  in  the  old 
eds.     I  have  followed  Dyce. 

2  Dyce  proposed  to  omit  the  word  "letter." 

3  Mr.  Fleay  reads  : — 

■'  And  where  he  lieth  none  but  we  shall  know." 
A  critic  in  the  Athencsum  (No.  2977)  suggests  :  — 

"  And  none  but  we  shall  know  where  P^dward  lies." 


2  14      "  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

Queen.  I  would  he  were,  so  'twere  not  by  my  means. 

Enter  Matrevis  and  Gurney. 

Y.  Mor.   Enough. — 
Matrevis,  write  a  letter  presently 
Unto  the  Lord  of  Berkeley  from  ourself 
That  he  resign  the  king  to  thee  and  Gurney  ; 
And  when  'tis  done,  we  will  subscribe  our  name.  5° 

Mat.   It  shall  be  done,  my  lord. 

Y.  Mor.  Gurney. 

Gur.   My  lord. 

Y.  Mor.  As  thou  intend'st  to  rise  by  Mortimer, 
i_ow  makes  Fortune's  wheel  _lurn  as  he  please, 
Seek  all  the  means  thou^ahst  to  make  him  aroop,"' 
And  neither  give  him  kind  word  nor  good  look. 

Gur.  I  warrant  you,  my  lord. 

Y.  Mor.  And  this  above  the  rest :  because  we  hear 
That  Edmund  casts  to  work  his  liberty. 
Remove  him  still  from  place  to  place  by  night, 
Till  at  the  last  he  come  to  Killingworth,  60 

And  then  from  thence  to  Berkeley  back  again  ; 
And  by  the  way,  to  make  him  fret  the  more. 
Speak  curstly  to  him  ;  and  in  any  case 
Let  no  man  comfort  him  if  he  chance  to  weep. 
But  amplify  his  grief  with  bitter  words. 

Mat.   Fear  not,  my  lord,  we'll  do  as  you  command. 

Y.  Mor.  So  now  away  ;  post  thitherwards  amain. 

Queen.  Whither  goes  this  letter?  to  my  lord  the  king  ? 
Commend  me  humbly  to  his  majesty, 
And  tell  him  that  I  labour  all  in  vain  7° 


SCENE  II.]  Edward  the  Second.  215 

To  ease  his  grief,  and  work  his  liberty ; 
And  bear  him  this  as  witness  of  my  love.     \Gives  a  ring. 
Mat.   I  will,  madam. 

[Exeunt  Matrevis  and  Gurney  ;  manetii  Isabel 
and  Mortimer. 

Enter  the  Young  Prince,  and  the  Earl  of  Kent  talkifig 
with  him. 

Y.  Mor.  Finely  dissembled  ?    Do  so  still,  sweet  queen. 
Here  comes  the  young  prince  with  the  Earl  of  Kent. 

Queen.  Something  he  whispers  in  his  childish  ears. 

K  Mor.   If  he  have  such  access  unto  the  prince, 
Our  plots  and  stratagems  will  soon  be  dashed. 

Queen.   Use  Edmund  friendly  as  if  all  were  well. 

Y.  Mor.   How  fares  my  honourable  lord  of  Kent  ?     80 

Kent.  In  health,    sweet    Mortimer :    how   fares   your 
grace  ? 

Queen.  Well,  if  my  lord  your  brother  were  enlarged. 

Kent.  I  hear  of  late  he  hath  deposed  himself. 

Queen.  The  more  my  grief. 

Y.  Mor.  And  mine. 

Kent.  Ah,  they  do  dissemble  !  [Aside, 

Queen.   Sweet  son,   come   hither,     I    must    talk   witn 
thee. 

Y.  Mor.  You  being  his  uncle,  and  the  next  of  blood, 
Do  look  to  be  protector  o'er  the  prince. 

Kent.  Not  I,  my  lord  ;  who  should  protect  the  son,  90 
But  she  that  gave  him  life  ?  I  mean  the  queen. 

Prince.   Mother,  persuade  me  not  to  wear  the  crown  : 
Let  him  be  king — I  am  too  young  to  reign. 


2 1 6  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

Queen.   But    be    content,    seeing   'tis  ^    his   highness' 
pleasure. 

Prince.  Let  me  but  see  him  first,  and  then  I  will. 

Kent.  Ay,  do,  sweet  nephew. 

Queen.  Brother,  you  know  it  is  impossible. 

Prince.   Why,  is  he  dead  ? 

Queen.   No,  God  forbid. 

Kent.   I    would   those    words    proceeded    from    your 
heart.  loo 

Y.  Mor.  Inconstant  Edmund,  dost  thou  favour  him, 
That  wast  a  cause  of  his  imprisonment  ? 

Kent.  The  more  cause  have  I  now  to  make  amends. 

Y.  Mor.  I  tell  thee,  'tis  not  meet  that  one  so  false 
Should  come  about  the  person  of  a  prince. 
My  lord,  he  hath  betrayed  the  king  his  brother, 
And  therefore  trust  him  not. 

Prince.  But  he  repents,  and  sorrows  for  it  now. 

Quee7i.  Come,  son,  and  go  with  this  gentle  lord  and  me. 

Prince.  With  you  I  will,  but  not  with  Mortimer,       "o 

Y.   Mor.    Why,     youngling,     'sdain'st    thou    so    of 
Mortimer? 
Then  I  will  carry  thee  by  force  away. 

Prince.  Help,  uncle  Kent,  Mortimer  will  wrong  me. 

Queen.     Brother    Edmund,    strive    not;    we    are    his 
friends  ; 
Isabel  is  nearer  than  the  Earl  of  Kent. 

Kent.  Sister,  Edward  is  my  charge,  redeem  him. 

Queen.  Edward  is  my  son,  and  I  will  keep  him. 

1  Ed.  1598  "it."— Eds.  1612,  1622,  "it  is." 


SCENE  III.]  Edward  the  Second.  217 

Kent.  Mortimer  shall  know  that  he  hath  wronged  me ! — 
Hence  will  I  haste  to  Killingworth  Castle, 
And  rescue  aged  Edward  from  his  foes,  120 

To  be  revenged  on  Mortimer  and  thee. 

\^Aside.     Exeunt  ornnes. 

SCENE  III. 
Enter^  Matrevis  and  Gurney  with  the  King. 

Mat.  My  lord,  be  not  pensive,  we  are  your  friends  ; 
Men  are  ordained  to  live  in  misery. 
Therefore  come, — dalliance  dangereth  our  lives. 

Edw.  Friends,  whither  must  unhappy  Edward  go  ? 
Will  hateful  Mortimer  appoint  no  rest  ? 
Must  I  be  vexed  like  the  niglitly  bird. 
Whose  sight  is  loathsome  to  all  winged  fowls  ? 
When  will  the  fury  of  his  mind  assuage  ? 
When  will  his  heart  be  satisfied  with  blood  ? 
If  mine  will  serve,  unbowel  straight  this  breast,  10 

And  give  my  heart  to  Isabel  and  him  ; 
It  is  the  chiefest  mark  they  level  at. 

Gur.  Not  so,  my  liege,  the  queen  hath  given  this  charge 
To  keep  your  grace  in  safety  ; 
Your  passions  make  your  dolours  to  increase. 

Edw.  This  usage  makes  my  misery  to  increase. 
But  can  my  air  ^  of  life  continue  long 
When  all  my  senses  are  annoyed  with  stench  ? 
Within  a  dungeon  England's  king  is  kept. 
Where  I  am  starved  for  want  of  sustenance.  20 

1  Scene  :  precincts  of  Kenilworth  Castle.  ^  Aura  vitae. 


2 18  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

My  daily  diet  is  heart-breaking  sobs, 
That  almost  rent  the  closet  of  my  heart ; 
Thus  lives  old  ^  Edward  not  relieved  by  any, 
And  so  must  die,  though  pitied  by  many. 
O,  vk'ater,  gentle  friends,  to  cool  my  thirst, 
And  clear  my  body  from  foul  excrements  ! 

Mat.    Here's    channel    water,  as   your    charge    is 
given  ; 
Sit  down,  for  we'll  be  barbers  to  your  grace. 

Edw.  Traitors,  away  !  what,  will  you  murder  me, 
Or  choke  your  sovereign  with  puddle  water  ?  30 

Gur.  No; 
But  wash  your  face,  and  shave  away  your  beard, 
Lest  you  be  known  and  so  be  rescued. 

Mat.  Why  strive  you  thus  ?  your  labour  is  in  vain  } 

Edw.  The  wren  may  strive  against  the  lion's  strength, 
But  all  in  vain :  so  vainly  do  I  strive 
To  seek  for  mercy  at  a  tyrant's  hand. 

\They  wash  him  with  puddle  water,  and  shave  his 
beard  away. 
Immortal  powers  !  that  knows  the  painful  cares 
That  waits  upon  my  poor  distressed  soul ! 

1  Edward  II.  was  only  forty-three  when  he  was  murdered.  Stow  often 
speaks  of  Edward  II.  as  the  "  old  king."  Malone  on  Richard  II.,  i.  i 
("  Old  John  of  Gaunt,  time-honoured  Lancaster  "),  remarks  : — "  Our  an- 
cestors, in  their  estimate  of  old  age,  appear  to  have  reckoned  somewhat 
differently  from  us,  and  to  have  considered  men  as  old  whom  we  should 
esteem  middle-aged.  With  them  every  man  that  had  passed  fifty 
seems  to  have  been  accounted  an  old  man.  ...  I  believe  this  is  made 
to  arise  from  its  being  customary  to  enter  into  life  in  former  times  at  an 
earlier  period  than  we  do  now.  Those  who  were  married  at  fifteen  had 
at  fifty  been  masters  of  a  house  and  family  for  thirty-five  years." 


SCENE  III.]         Edward  the  Second.  219 

O  level  all  your  looks  upon  these  daring  men,  40 

That  wrongs  their  liege  and  sovereign,  England's  king. 

O  Gaveston,  'tis  for  thee  that  I  am  wronged, 

For  me,  both  thou  and  both  the  Spencers  died  ! 

And  for  your  sakes  a  thousand  wrongs  I'll  take. 

The  Spencers'  ghosts,  wherever  they  remain, 

Wish  well  to  mine;  then  tush,  for  them  I'll  die. 

Mat.   'Twixt  theirs  and  yours  shall  be  no  enmity. 
Come,  come  away ;  now  put  the  torches  out, 
We'll  enter  in  by  darkness  to  Killingworth. 

Enter  Kent. 

Gur.   How  now,  Avho  comes  there  ?  50 

Mat.   Guard  the  king  sure  :  it  is  the  Earl  of  Kent. 

Enter  Soldiers. 

Edw.  O  gentle  brother,  help  to  rescue  me  ! 

Mat.   Keep  them  asunder ;  thrust  in  the  king. 

Kent.  Soldiers,  let  me  but  talk  to  him  one  word. 

Gur.   Lay  hands  upon  the  earl  for  his  assault. 

Kent.  Lay  down  your  weapons,  traitors,  yield  the  king. 

Mat.  Edmund,  yield  thou  thyself,  or  thou  shalt  die. 

Kent.  Base  villains,  wherefore  do  you  gripe  me  thus  ! 

Gur.  Bind  him  and  so  convey  him  to  the  court. 

Kent.  Where  is  the  court  but  here  ?  here  is  the  king ;  60 
And  I  will  visit  him  ;  why  stay  you  me? 

Mat.  The  court  is  where  Lord  Mortimer  remains ; 
Thither  shall  your  honour  go  ;  and  so  farewell. 

\Exeunt  Matrevis  and  Gurney,  with  the  King. 
Kent  and  the  Soldiers  remaiti. 


2  20  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

Ketit.  O  miserable  is  that  commonweal, 
Where  lords  keeps  courts,  and  kings  are  locked  in  prison  ! 

Sol.  Wherefore  stay  we  ?  on,  sirs,  to  the  court. 

Ke7it.  Ay,  lead  me  whither  you  will,  even  to  my  death, 
Seeing  that  my  brother  cannot  be  released, 

\_Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV. 

Enter^  Young  Mortimer. 

Y.  Mor.  The  king  must  die,  or  Mortimer  goes  down. 
The  commons  now  begin  to  pity  him. 
Yet  he  that  is  the  cause  of  Edward's  death, 
Is  sure  to  pay  for  it  when  his  son's  of  age  ; 
And  therefore  will  I  do  it  cunningly. 
This  letter,  written  by  a  friend  of  ours, 
Contains  his  death,  yet  bids  them  save  his  life.     YReads. 
Edwardum  occidere  nolite  timere  bomnn  est 
Fear  not  to  kill  the  king  ^tis  good  he  die. 
But  read  it  thus,  and  that's  another  sense :  lo 

Edwardu/Jt  occidere  nolite  timere  boTiimi  est 
Kill  not  the  king  'tis  good  to  fear  the  worst. 
Unpointed  as  it  is,  thus  shall  it  go. 
That,  being  dead,  if  it  chance  to  be  found, 
Matrevis  and  the  rest  may  bear  the  blame. 
And  we  be  quit  that  caused  it  to  be  done. 
Within  this  room  is  locked  the  messenger. 


'  Scene  :  the  royal  palace,  London. 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Seco7id.  221 

That  shall  convey  it,  and  perform  the  rest : 

And  by  a  secret  token  that  he  bears, 

Shall  he  be  murdered  when  the  deed  is  done. —  20 

l^ightborn,  come  forth  ! 

Enter  Lightborn. 
Art  thou  so  resolute  as  thou  wast  ? 

Light.  What  else,  my  lord  ?  and  far  more  resolute. 

Y.  Mor.  And  hast  thou  cast  how  to  accomplish  it  ? 

Light.  Ay,  ay,  and  none  shall  know  which  way  he  died. 

Y.  Mor.  But  at  his  looks,  Lightborn,  thou  wilt  relent. 

Light,  Relent !  ha,  ha  !  I  use  much  to  relent. 

Y.  Afor.  Well,  do  it  bravely,  and  be  secret. 

Light.   You  shall  not  need  to  give  instructions ; 
'Tis  not  the  first  time  I  have  killed  a  man.  30 

I  learned  in  Naples  how  to  poison  flowers  ; 
To  strangle  with  a  lawn  thrust  through  ^  the  throat  : 
To  pierce  the  windpipe  with  the  needle's  point ; 
Or  whilst  one  is  asleep,  to  take  a  quill 
And  blow  a  little  powder  in  his  ears  : 
Or  open  his  mouth  and  pour  quicksilver  down. 
And  yet  I  have  a  braver  way  than  these. 

Y.  Mor.  What's  that  ? 

Light.  Nay,  you  shall  pardon  me  ;  none  shall  know 
my  tricks. 

Y.  Mor.  I  care  not  how  it  is,  so  it  be  not  spied.        40 
Deliver  this  to  Gurney  and  Matrevis. 
At  every  ten  mile  end  thou  hast  a  horse. 
Take  this,  away,  and  never  see  me  more. 

1  So  ed.  1598. — Eds.  1612,  1622,  "down." 


22  2  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

Light.  No  ! 

Y.  Mor.  No  ; 
Unless  thou  bring  me  news  of  Edward's  death. 

Light.  That  will  I  quickly  do ;  farewell,  my  lord. 

\^Exit. 

Y.  Mor.  The  prince  I  rule,  the  queen  do  I  command, 
And  with  a  lowly  conge  to  the  ground, 
The  proudest  lords  salute  me  as  I  pass  :  50 

I  seal,  I  cancel,  I  do  what  I  will : 
Feared  am  I  more  than  loved — let  me  be  feared  ; 
And  when  I  frown,  make  all  the  court  look  pale. 
I  view  the  prince  with  Aristarchus'  eyes, 
Whose  looks  were  as  a  breeching  to  a  boy. 
They  thrust  upon  me  the  protectorship, 
And  sue  to  me  for  that  that  I  desire. 
While  at  the  council-table,  grave  enough. 
And  not  unlike  a  bashful  puritan, 

First  I  complain  of  imbecility,  60 

Saying  it  is  onus  qimm  gravissimum  ; 
Till  being  interrupted  by  my  friends, 
Suscepi  \\\2X  provinciam  as  they  term  it ; 
And  to  conclude,  I  am  Protector  now. 
Now  is  all  sure,  the  queen  and  Mortimer 
Shall  rule  the  realm,  the  king  ;  and  none  rules  us. 
Mine  enemies  will  I  plague,  my  friends  advance  ; 
And  what  I  list  command  who  dare  control? 
Major  sum  quam  cui possit  fortuna  nocere.^ 
And  that  this  be  the  coronation-day,  70 


^  Ovid,  Metam.  vi.  195. 


SCENE  IV.]  Edward  the  Second.  223 

It  pleaseth  me,  and  Isabel  the  queen. 

\Trumpets  withitt. 

The  trumpets  sound,  I  must  go  take  my  place. 

Enter^  the  YouxG  KiXG,  Archbishop.  Ch.\mpion, 
Nobles,  Queen. 

Archbishop.  Long  live  King  Edward,  by  the  grace  of 
God, 
King  of  England,  and  Lord  of  Ireland  ! 

Cham.  If  any  Christian,  Heathen,  Turk,  or  Jew, 
Dare  but  affirm  that  Edward's  not  true  king, 
And  will  avouch  his  saying  with  the  sword, 
I  am  the  champion  that  will  combat  with  him. 

Y.  Alor.  None  comes,  sound  trumpets. 

King.  Champion,  here's  to  thee.  \_Gives  a  furs<f. 

Queen.  Lord  Mortimer,  now  take  him  to  your  charge.  So 

Enter  Soldiers,  with  the  Earl  of  Kent  prisoner. 

Y.  Mor.  What  traitor  have  we  there  with  blades  and 
bills  ? 

Sol.   Edmund,  the  Earl  of  Kent. 

Kitig.  What  hath  he  done  ? 

Sol.  'A  would  have  taken  the  king  away  perforce. 
As  we  were  bringing  him  to  Killingworth. 

Y.  Mor.  Did  you  attempt  his  rescue,  Edmund  ?  speak. 

Kent.  Mortimer,  I  did  ;  he  is  our  king. 
And  thou  compell'st  this  prince  to  wear  the  crown. 

1  The  scene  shifts  to  WestminsttT. 
-  Old  eds.  "  Bishop." 


2  24  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

Y.  Mor.  Strike   off  his  head,   he  shall  have    martial 
law. 

Kent.  Strike  off  my  head  !  base  traitor,  I  defy  thee. 

King.  My  lord,  he  is  my  uncle,  and  shall  live.  90 

Y.  Mor.  My  lord,  he  is  your  enemy,  and  shall  die. 

Kent.  Stay,  villains  ! 

King.  Sweet  mother,  if  I  cannot  pardon  him, 
Entreat  my  Lord  Protector  for  his  life. 

Queen.  Son,  be  content ;  I  dare  not  speak  a  word. 

King.  Nor  I,  and  yet  methinks  I  should  command  ; 
But,  seeing  I  cannot,  I'll  entreat  for  him, — 
My  lord,  if  you  will  let  my  uncle  live, 
I  will  requite  it  when  I  come  to  age. 

Y.  Mor.  'Tis   for   your  highness'  good,  and  for  the 
realm's. —  100 

How  often  shall  I  bid  you  bear  him  hence  ? 

Kent.  Art  thou  king?  must  I  die  at  thy  command  ? 

Y.  Mor.  At  our   command  !  once    more    away   with 
him. 

Kent.  Let  me  but  stay  and  speak ;  I  will  not  go. 
Either  my  brother  or  his  son  is  king, 
And  none  of  both  them  thirst  for  Edmund's  blood. 
And  thereiore,  soldiers,  whither  will  you  hale  me  ? 

[  They  hale  Kent  away,  and  carry  him  to  be  beheaaed. 

Kifig.  What  safety  may  I  look  for  at  his  hands, 
If  that  my  uncle  shall  be  murdered  thus  ?  no 

Queen.  Fear  not,  sweet  boy,  I'll  guard  thee  from  thy 
foes; 
Had  Edmund  lived,  he  would  have  sought  thy  death. 
Come,  son,  we'll  ride  a  hunting  in  the  park. 


SCENE  v.]  Edward  the  Second.  225 

King.  And  shall  my  uncle  Edmund  ride  with  us  ? 
Queen.  He  is  a  traitor ;  think  not  on  him ;  come. 

\Exeunt  omnes. 

SCENE  V. 
Enter"'  Matrevis  and  Gurney. 

Mat.  Gurney,  I  wonder  the  king  dies  not, 
Being  in  a  vault  up  to  the  knees  in  water, 
To  which  the  channels  of  the  castle  run, 
From  whence  a  damp  continually  ariseth, 
That  were  enough  to  poison  any  man, 
jMuch  more  a  king  brought  up  so  tenderly. 

Gur.  And  so  do  I,  Matrevis  :  yesternight 
I  opened  but  the  door  to  throw  him  meat, 
And  I  was  almost  stifled  with  the  savour. 

Mat.  He  hath  a  body  able  to  endure  10 

More  than  we  can  inflict :  and  therefore  now 
Let  us  assail  his  mind  another  while. 

Gur.  Send  for  him  out  thence,  and  I  will  anger  him. 

Alat.  But  stay,  who's  this  ? 

Enter  Lightborn. 

Light.  My  Lord  Protector  greets  you. 

Giir.  What's  here  ?     I  know  not  how  to  construe  it. 

Mat.  Gurney,  it  was  left  unpointed  for  the  nonce ; 
Edwardum  occidere  nolite  tintere, 
That's  his  meaning.  i<^ 

Light.  Know  ye  this  token  ?     I  must  have  the  king. 

Mat.  Ay,  stay  awhile,  thou  shalt  have  answer  straight. 

1  Scene  :  Berkeley  Castle. 
VOL.  II.  p 


2  26  Edward  the  Second.  [act  v. 

This  villain's  sent  to  make  away  the  king.  \Aside. 

Giir.  I  thought  as  much.  [Aside. 

Mat.  And  when  the  murder's  done, 
See  how  he  must  be  handled  for  his  labour. 
Pereat  iste  !     Let  him  have  the  king.  \Aside. 

What  else  ?  here  is  the  keys,  this  is  the  lake/ 
Do  as  you  are  commanded  by  my  lord. 

Light.  I  know  what  I  must  do  ;  get  you  away. 
Yet  be  not  far  off,  I  shall  need  your  help  ; 
See  that  in  the  next  room  I  have  a  fire, 
And  get  me  a  spit,  and  let  it  be  red-hot.  30 

Mat  Very  well. 

Gur.  Need  you  anything  besides  ? 

Light.  What  else  ?     A  table  and  a  feather-bed. 

Gur.  That's  all  ? 

Light.  Ay,  ay ;  so,  when  I  call  you,  bring 
It  in. 

Mat.  Fear  not  thou  that. 

Gur.  Here's  a  light, 
To  go  into  the  dungeon. 

\Gives  light,  afid  exit  with  Matrevis. 

Light.  So  2  now 
Must  I  about  this  gear ;  ^  ne'er  was  there  any 
So  finely  handled  as  this  king  shall  be. 
Foh,  here's  a  place  indeed,  with  all  my  heart ! 

Edw.  Who's   there?   what   light   is   that?   wherefore 
com'st  thou  ? 


1  I.e.,  the  dungeon  full  of  mire  and  puddle.     But  perhaps  we  should 
read  "lock." 

2  A  curtain  is  drawn  and  the  king  is  discovered  in  the  dungeon. 
s  Business. 


SCENE  v.]  Edward  the  Second.  227 

Light.  To  comfort  you,  and  bring  you  joyful  news.    40 

Edw.  Small  comfort  finds  poor  Edward  in  thy  looks. 
Villain,  I  know  thou  com'st  to  murder  me. 

Light.  To  murder  you,  my  most  gracious  lord  ! 
Far  is  it  from  my  heart  to  do  you  harm. 
The  queen  sent  me  to  see  how  you  were  used, 
For  she  relents  at  this  your  misery  : 
And  what  eyes  can  refrain  from  shedding  tears, 
To  see  a  king  in  this  most  piteous  state  ? 

Edw.  Weep'st  thou  already  ?  list  awhile  to  me. 
And  then  thy  heart,  were  it  as  Gurney's  is,  50 

Or  as  Matrevis',  hewn  from  the  Caucasus, 
Yet  will  it  melt,  ere  I  have  done  my  tale. 
This  dungeon  where  they  keep  me  is  the  sink 
Wherein  the  filth  of  all  the  castle  falls. 

Light.  O  villains  ! 

Edw.  And  there  in  mire  and  puddle  have  I  stood 
This  ten  days'  space ;  and,  lest  that  I  should  sleep, 
One  plays  continually  upon  a  drum. 
They  give  me  bread  and  water,  being  a  king ; 
So  that,  for  want  of  sleep  and  sustenance,  60 

My  mind's  distempered,  and  my  body's  numbed, 
And  whether  I  have  limbs  or  no  I  know  not. 
O,  would  my  blood  dropped  out  from  every  vein, 
As  doth  this  water  from  my  tattered  ^  robes. 
Tell  Isabel,  the  queen,  I  looked  not  thus. 
When  for  her  sake  I  ran  at  tilt  in  France, 
And  there  unhorsed  the  Duke  of  Cleremont. 

1  So  eds.  1598,  1612. — Ed.  1622  "  tottered  " 


2  28  Edwo.rd  the  Second.  [act  v. 

Light  O  speak  no  more,  my  lord  !   this  breaks  my 
heart. 
Lie  on  this  bed,^  and  rest  yourself  awhile. 

Edw.  These  looks  of  thine  can  harbour  nought  but 
death :  70 

I  see  my  tragedy  written  in  thy  brows. 
Yet  stay  ;  awhile  forbear  thy  bloody  hand, 
And  let  me  see  the  stroke  before  it  comes, 
That  2  even  then  when  I  shall  lose  my  life. 
My  mind  may  be  more  steadfast  on  my  God. 

Light.  What  means  your  highness  to  mistrust  me  thus  ? 

Edw.  What    mean'st    thou   to   dissemble    with    me 
thus? 

Light.  These  hands  were  never  stained  with  innocent 
blood. 
Nor  shall  they  now  be  tainted  with  a  king's.  79 

Edw.   Forgive  my  thought  ^  for  having  such  a  thought. 
One  jewel  have  I  left;  receive  thou  this.    \Giving jewel. 
Still  fear  I,  and  I  know  not  what's  the  cause. 
But  every  joint  shakes  as  I  give  it  thee. 
O,  if  thou  harbour'st  murder  in  thy  heart, 
Let  this  gift  change  thy  mind,  and  save  thy  soul ! 
Know  that  I  am  a  king  :  O  !  at  that  name 
I  feel  a  hell  of  grief  \  where  is  my  crown  ? 
Gone,  gone  ;  and  do  I  remain  alive  ?  ^ 

1  The  feather-bed  mentioned  in  1.  32.     "  It  was  no  doubt  thrust  upon 
the  stage  from  the  wing  after  the  exit  of  Gurney  and  Matrevis." — Dyce. 

2  Old  eds.  "That  a«(/ even." 

3  Mr.  Fleay  would  read  "fau't"  {i.e.  fault),  com^zr'mg  Richard  HI., 
ii.  I,  104: — "  His  fault  was  thought." 

*  So  ed.  1598. — Omitted  in  eds.  1612,  1622. 


SCENE  v.]  Edward  the  Second.  229 

Light.   You're  overwatched,  my  lord ;  lie  down  and 
rest. 

Edw.  But  that  grief  keeps  me  waking,  I  should  sleep ;  90 
For  not  these  ten  days  have  these  eyes'  lids  ^  closed. 
Now  as  I  speak  they  fall,  and  yet  with  fear 
Open  again.     O  wherefore  sitt'st  thou  here  ? 

Light.  If  you  mistrust  me,  I'll  begone,  my  lord. 

Ed-ii).  No,  no,  for  if  thou  mean'st  to  murder  me, 
Thou  wilt  return  again,  and  therefore  stay.  \Sleeps. 

Light.  He  sleeps. 

Edw.  \a'wakes\.  O  let  me  not  die  yet  3  ^  stay,  O  stay  a 
while ! 

Light.  How  now,  my  lord  ? 

Edw.  Something  still  buzzeth  in  mine  ears,  100 

And  tells  me  if  I  sleep  I  never  wake  ; 
This  fear  is  that  which  makes  me  tremble  thus. 
And  therefore  tell  me,  wherefore  art  thou  come  ? 

Light.  To  rid  thee  of  thy  life. — Matrevis,  come  ! 

Enter  Matrevis  and  Gurney. 

Edw.  I  am  too  weak  and  feeble  to  resist : 
Assist  me,  sweet  God,  and  receive  my  soul. 
Light.  Run  for  the  table. 
Edw.  O  spare  me,  or  despatch  me  in  a  trice. 

1  So  eds.  1598,  1612  ("  eies-lids  "). — Ed.  1622  "eyelids." 

2  Eds.  1598,  1612,  "O  let  me  not  die,  yet  stay,  Ostaya  while."  Ed. 
1622,  "O  let  me  not  die  yet!  O  stay  a  while"  (and  so  Dyce).  Mr. 
Fleay  prints : — 

"  Oh ! 
Let  me  not  die  yet ;  stay,  oh  stay  a  while." 


230  Edward  the  Second.  [actv. 

Light.  So,  lay  the  table  down,  and  stamp  on  it, 
But  not  too  hard,  lest  that  you  bruise  his  body.  no 

[King  Edward  is  murdered. 

Mat.  I  fear  me  that  this  cry  will  raise  the  town, 
And  therefore,  let  us  take  horse  and  away. 

Light.  Tell  me,  sirs,  was  it  not  bravely  done  ? 

Gur.  Excellent  well  :  take  this  for  thy  reward. 

[GURNEY  stabs  LiGHTBORN. 

Come,  let  us  cast  the  body  in  the  moat, 

And  bear  the  king's  to  Mortimer  our  lord  : 

Away  !  [Exeunt  with  the  bodies. 

SCENE  VI. 
Enter  ^  Mortimer  and  Matrevis. 

K  Mor.  Is't  done,  Matrevis,  and  the  murderer  dead? 

Mat.  Ay,  my  good  lord ;  I  would  it  were  undone. 

Y.  Mor.   Matrevis,  if  thou  now  ^  growest  penitent 
I'll  be  thy  ghostly  father ;  therefore  choose, 
Whether  thou  wilt  be  secret  in  this. 
Or  else  die  by  the  hand  of  Mortimer. 

Mat.  Gurney,  my  lord,  is  fled,  and  will,  I  fear, 
Betray  us  both,  therefore  let  me  fly. 

Y.  Mor.  Fly  to  the  savages. 

Mat.   I  humbly  thank  your  honour.  10 

Y.  Mor.  As  for  myself,  I  stand  as  Jove's  huge  tree  ; 
And  others  are  but  shrubs  compared  to  me. 

1  Scene :  the  royal  palace,  London. 

2  So  ed.  1598. — Omitted  in  eds.  1612,  1622. 


SCENE  VI.]  Edward  the  Second.  231 

All  tremble  at  my  name,  and  I  fear  none ; 
Let's  see  who  dare  impeach  me  for  his  death. 

Enter  the  Queen. 

Queen.  Ah,  Mortimer,  the  king  my  son  hath  news 
His  father's  dead,  and  we  have  murdered  him. 

K  Mor.  What  if  he  have  ?  the  king  is  yet  a  child. 

Queen.  Ay,^  but  he  tears  his  hair,  and  wrings  his  hands, 
And  vows  to  be  revenged  upon  us  both. 
Into  the  council-chamber  he  is  gone,  20 

To  crave  the  aid  and  succour  of  his  peers. 
Ay  me  !  see  where  he  comes,  and  they  with  him ; 
Now,  Mortimer,  begins  our  tragedy. 

Enter  the  King,  with  the  Lords. 

First  2  Lord.  Fear  not,  my  lord,  know  that  you  are  a 
king. 

King.  Villain  ! 

K  Mor.  Ho,^  now,  my  lord  ! 

King.  Think  not  that  I  am  frighted  with  thy  words  ! 
My  father's  murdered  through  thy  treachery ; 
And  thou  shalt  die,  and  on  his  mournful  hearse 
Thy  hateful  and  accursed  head  shall  lie,  30 

To  witness  to  the  world,  that  by  thy  means 
His  kingly  body  was  too  soon  interred. 

Queen.  Weep  not,  sweet  son  ! 

King.  Forbid  me  not  to  weep,  he  was  my  father ; 

1  The  old  eds.  repeat  "Ay." 
-  The  prefix  in  the  old  eds.  is  ^^  Lords." 

*  Seed.  1598.— Eds.  1612,   1622,  "How  now,  my  Lord?"  (which  is 
perhaps  the  right  reading). 


232  Edwai'd  the  Second.  [act  v. 

And,  had  you  loved  him  half  so  well  as  I, 
You  could  not  bear  his  death  thus  patiently. 
But  you,  I  fear,  conspired  with  Mortimer. 

First  "^  Lord.  Why  speak  you  not  unto  my  lord  the  king? 

Y.  Mor.  Because  I  think  scorn  to  be  accused. 
Who  is  the  man  dares  say  I  murdered  him  ?  40 

King.  Traitor  !  in  me  my  loving  father  speaks, 
And  plainly  saith,  'twas  thou  that  murder'dst  him. 

Y.  Mor.  But  has  your  grace  no  other  proof  than  this  ? 

King.  Yes,  if  this  be  the  hand  of  Mortimer. 

Y.  Mor.  False  Gurney  hath  betrayed  me  and  himself. 

S^Aside. 

Queen.  I  feared  as  much ;  murder  cannot  be  hid. 

\Aside. 

Y.  Mor.  It  is  my  hand ;  what  gather  you  by  this  ? 

King.  That  thither  thou  didst  send  a  murderer. 

Y.  Mor.  What  murderer  ?    Bring  forth  the  man  I  sent. 

King.  Ah,  Mortimer,  thou  knowest  that  he  is  slain  ;  50 
And  so  shalt  thou  be  too.     Why  stays  he  here  ? 
Bring  him  unto  a  hurdle,  drag  him  forth ; 
Hang  him,  I  say,  and  set  his  quarters  up ; 
But  bring  his  head  back  presently  to  me. 

Qiieen.  For  my  sake,  sweet  son,  pity  Mortimer. 

Y.  Mor.  Madam,  entreat  not,  I  will  rather  die, 
Than  sue  for  life  unto  a  paltry  boy. 

King.  Hence  with  the  traitor  !  with  the  murderer  ! 

Y.  Mor.  Base  Fortune,  now  I  see,  that  in  thy  wheel 
There  is  a  pomt,  to  which  when  men  aspire,  60 

1  Oldeds.  ''Lords:' 


SCENE  VI.]         Edward  the  Second.  233 

TheT^iUnble  headlong  down :  that  point  I  touched, 
And,  seeing  there  waslio" place  to  mount  up  Kigh'er, 
Why  should  I  grieve  at  my  declining  fall  ? 
Farewell,  fair  queen ;  weep  not  for  Mortimer, 
That  scorns  the  world,  and,  as  a  traveller, 
Goes  to  discover  countries  yet  unknown. 

King.  What !  suffer  you  the  traitor  to  delay  ? 

[Mortimer  is  taken  away. 

Queen.  As  thou  receivedest  thy  life  from  me, 
Spill  not  the  blood  of  gentle  Mortimer. 

King.  This  argues  that  you  spilt  my  father's  blood,  70 
Else  would  you  not  entreat  for  Mortimer. 

Queen.  I  spill  his  blood  ?  no.^ 

King.  Ay,  madam,  you ;  for  so  the  rumour  runs. 

Queen,  That  rumour  is  untrue  ;  for  loving  thee, 
Is  this  report  raised  on  poor  Isabel. 

King.  I  do  not  think  her  so  unnatural. 

Second'^  Lord.  My  lord,  I  fear  me  it  will  prove  too  true. 

Ki7ig.  Mother,  you  are  suspected  for  his  death, 
And  therefore  we  commit  you  to  the  Tower 
Till  farther  trial  may  be  made  thereof;  80 

If  you  be  guilty,  though  I  be  your  son. 
Think  not  to  find  me  slack  or  pitiful. 

Queen.  Nay,  to  my  death,  for  too  long  have  I  lived, 
Whenas  my  son  thinks  to  abridge  my  days. 

King.  Away  with  her,  her  words  enforce  these  tears, 
And  I  shall  pity  her  if  she  speak  again. 


1  Omitted  in  eds.  1612,  1622. 
-  Old  eds.  '■''Lords.'''' 


234  Edward  the  Second,  [act  v. 

Queen.  Shall  I  not  mourn  for  my  beloved  lord, 
And  with  the  rest  accompany  him  to  his  ^  grave  ? 

Second'^  Lord.  Thus,  madam,  'tis  the  king's  will  you 

shall  hence. 

Queen.  He  hath  forgotten  me  ;  stay,  I  am  his  mother. 

Secotid'^    Lord.    That    boots   not ;    therefore,   gentle 

madam,  go.  91 

Queen.  Then  come,  sweet  death,  and  rid  me  of  this 

grief  \Exit. 

Re-etiter  a  Lord,  with  tlie  head  <?/"  Mortimer. 

Lord.  My  lord,  here  is  the  head  of  Mortimer. 

King.  Go  fetch  my  father's  hearse,  where  it  shall  lie  \ 
And  bring  my  funeral  robes.     Accursed  head, 
Could  I  have  ruled  thee  then,  as  I  do  now. 
Thou  had'st  not  hatched  this  monstrous  treachery. 
Here  comes  the  hearse  ;  help  me  to  mourn,  my  lords. 
Sweet  father,  here  unto  thy  murdered  ghost 
I  offer  up  this  wicked  traitor's  head  ;  100 

And  let  these  tears,  distilling  from  mine  eyes. 
Be  witness  of  my  grief  and  innocency.  \Exeunt. 


1  So  ed.  1598. — Eds.  1612,  1622,  "the." 

2  Old  eds.  '■^  Lords." 


THE    MASSACRE   AT   PARIS. 


Of  The  Massacre  at  Paris  there  is  only  one  early  edition,  an  un- 
dated 8vo,  (printed  circ.  1596?)     The  title  is  : — 

The  Massacre  at  Paris :  With  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Guise. 
As  it  was plaide  by  the  right  honourable  the  Lord  high  Admirall  his 
Seruants.  Written  by  Christopher  Marloive.  At  London  Printed 
by  E.  A.  for  Edivard  White,  dwelling  neere  the  little  North  doore  of 
S,  Paules  Church  at  the  signe  of  the  Gun. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 

Charles  the  Ninth,  King  of  France. 

Duke  of  Anjou,  his  Brother,  afterwards  KlNG^  HENRY 

THE  Third. 
King  of  Navarre. 
Prince  of  Cond^,  his  Cousin. 
Duke  of  Guise,  ) 

Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  >  Brothers. 
Duke  Dumaine,  ) 

Son  to  the  Duke  of  Guise,  a  Boy. 
The  Lord  High  Admiral. 
Duke  Joyeux. 
Epernoun. 
Plesh6. 
Bartus. 
Two  Lords  of  Poland. 

GONZAGO. 

Retes. 

Mountsorrell. 
mugeroun. 
Loreine,  a  Preacher. 
Seroune. 
Ramus. 
Tal^us. 
Friar. 
Surgeon. 
English  Agent. 
Apothecary. 
Cutpurse. 

Captain  of  the  Guard,  Protestants,  Schoolmasters,  Soldiers, 
Murderers,  Attendants,  &c. 

Catherine,  the  Queen-Mother  of  France. 

Margaret,  her  Daughter,  wife  to  the  King  of  Navarre. 

The  Old  Queen  of  Navarre. 

Duchess  of  Guise. 

"Wife  to  Seroune. 

Maid  to  the  Duchess  of  Guise. 


THE  MASSACRE  AT  PARIS. 


SCENE  I. 

Enter  Charles/  the  French  king;  Catherine,  the  Queen- 
Mother  ;  the  King  of  Navarre  ;  Margaret,  Queen 
of  N^avarre ;  the  Prince  of  Conde  ;  the  Lord  High 
Admiral  ;  the  Old  Queen  of  Navarre  ;  with 
others. 

Char.  Prince  of  Navarre,  my  honourable  brother, 
Prince  Conde,  and  my  good  Lord  Admiral, 
I  wish  this  union  and  religious  league, 
Knit  in  these  hands,  thus  joined  in  nuptial  rites. 
May  not  dissolve  till  death  dissolve  our  lives  ; 
And  that  the  native  sparks  of  princely  love, 
That  kindled  first  this  motion  in  our  hearts, 
May  still  be  fuelled  in  our  progeny. 

Nav.  The  many  favours  which  your  grace  hath  shown, 
From  time  to  time,  but  specially  in  this,  lo 

Shall  bind  me  ever  to  your  highness'  will, 
In  what  Queen-Mother  or  your  grace  commands. 

1  In  the  old  copy  there  is  no  division  into  scenes.     Scene  :  an  apart- 
ment in  the  Louvre. 


240  The  Massacre  at  Paris.        [scene  i. 

Cath.  Thanks,  son  Navarre.      You  see  we  love  you 
well, 
That  link  you  in  marriage  with  our  daughter  here  ; 
And,  as  you  know,  our  difference  in  religion 
Might  be  a  means  to  cross  you  in  your  love. — 

Char.  Well,  madam,  let  that  rest — 
And  now,  my  lords,  the  marriage  rites  performed, 
We  think  it  good  to  go  and  consummate 
The  rest  with  hearing  of  a  holy  mass. —  20 

Sister,  I  think  yourself  will  bear  us  company. 

Mar.  I  will,  my  good  lord. 

Char.  The  rest  that  will  not  go,  my  lords,  may  stay. — 
Come,  mother. 
Let  us  go  to  honour  this  solemnity. 

Cath.  Which  I'll  dissolve  with  blood  and  cruelty. 

\Aside. 
\Exeunt  all  except  the  King  of  Navarre, 
CoND^  and  the  Admiral. 

Nav.  Prince  Conde,  and  my  good  Lord  Admiral, 
Now  Guise  may  storm,  but  do  us  little  hurt. 
Having  the  king,  Queen-Mother  on  our  sides. 
To  stop  the  malice  of  his  envious  heart,  30 

That  seeks  to  murder  all  the  Protestants. 
Have  you  not  heard  of  late  how  he  decreed 
(If  that  the  king  had  given  consent  thereto) 
That  all  the  Protestants  that  are  in  Paris 
Should  have  been  murdered  the  other  night  ? 

Adni.  My  lord,  I  marvel  that  th'  aspiring  Guise 
Dares  once  adventure,  without  the  king's  consent, 
To  meddle  or  attempt  such  dangerous  things. 


SCENE  11.]        The  Massacre  at  Paris.  241 

Con.  My  lord,  you  need  not  marvel  at  the  Guise, 
For  what  he  doth,  the  Pope  will  ratify,  40 

In  murder,  mischief,  or  in  tyranny. 

Nav.  But  he  that  sits  and  rules  above  the  clouds 
Doth  hear  and  see  the  prayers  of  the  just. 
And  will  revenge  the  blood  of  innocents. 
That  Guise  hath  slain  by  treason  of  his  heart, 
And  brought  by  murder  to  their  timeless^  ends. 

Adm.   My  lord,  but  did  you  mark  the  Cardinal, 
The  Guise's  brother,  and  the  Duke  Dumaine, 
How  they  did  storm  at  these  your  nuptial  rites, 
Because  the  house  of  Bourbon  now  comes  in,  50 

And  joins  your  hneage  to  the  crown  of  France  ? 

Nav.  And  that's  the  cause  that  Guise  so  frowns  at  us, 
And  beats  his  brains  to  catch  us  in  his  trap, 
Which  he  hath  pitched  within  his  deadly  toil. 
Come,  my  lords,  let's  go  to  the  church,  and  pray 
That  God  may  still  defend  the  right  of  France, 
And  make  his  Gospel  flourish  in  this  land.  \^Ex€unt. 

SCENE  II. 
Enter  GuiSE.^ 

Guise.  If  ever  Hymen  lour'd  at  marriage  rites, 
And  had  his  altars  decked  with  dusky  lights ; 
If  ever  sun  stained  heaven  with  bloody  clouds, 
And  made  it  look  with  terror  on  the  world  : 


1  Untimely. 

2  Scene  :  an  apartment  in  a  house  near  the  Louvre. 
VOL.   II.  Q 


242  The  Massacre  at  Paris.       [scene  n. 

If  ever  day  were  turned  to  ugly  night, 
And  night  made  semblance  of  the  hue  of  hell ; 
This  day,  this  hour,  this  fatal  night,  . 

Shall  fully  show  the  fury  of  them  all. — 
Apothecary  ! 

Etiter  Apothecary. 

Apoth.  My  lord  ?  10 

Guise.  Now  shall  I  prove,  and  guerdon  to  the  full, 
The  love  thou  bear'st  unto  the  house  of  Guise. 
Where  are  those  perfumed  gloves  which  [late]  I  sent 
To  be  poisoned  ?  hast  thou  done  them  ?  speak  ; 
Will  every  savour  breed  a  pang  of  death  ? 

Apoth.  See  where  they  be,  my  good  lord  ;  and  he  that 
smells 
But  to  them,  dies. 

Guise.  Then  thou  remainest  resolute  ? 

Apoth.   I  am,  my  lord,  in  what  your  grace  commands. 
Till  death. 

Guise.  Thanks,  my  good  friend  :  I  will  requite  thy  love. 
Go,  then,  present  them  to  the  Queen  Navarre;  21 

For  she  is  that  huge  blemish  in  our  eye, 
That  makes  these  upstart  heresies  in  France  : 
Be  gone,  my  friend,  present  them  to  her  straight. 

\Exit  Apothecary. 
Soldier  ! 

Enter  a  Soldier, 

Sold.  My  lord  ? 

Guise.  Now  come  thou  forth  and  play  thy  tragic  part : 


SCENE  II.]         The  Massacre  at  Paris.  243 

Stand  in  some  window,^  opening  near  the  street, 
And  when  thou  see'st  the  Admiral  ride  by, 
Discharge  thy  musket,  and  perform  his  death  ;  30 

And  then  I'll  guerdon  thee  with  store  of  crowns. 

Sold.  I  will,  my  lord.  S^Exit. 

Guise.  Now,    Guise,    begin    those    deep-engendered 
thoughts 
To  burst  abroad  those  never-dying  flames 
Which  cannot  be  extinguished  but  by  blood. 
Oft  have  I  levelled,  and  at  last  have  learn'd 
That  peril  is  the  chiefest  way  to  happiness, 
And  resolution  honour's  fairest  aim. 
What  glory  is  there  in  a  common  good, 
That  hangs  for  every  peasant  to  achieve  ?  40 

That  like  I  best  that  flies  beyond  my  reach. 
Set  me  to  scale  the  high  Pyramides, 
And  thereon  set  the  diadem  of  France  ; 
I'll  either  rend  it  with  my  nails  to  naught, 
Or  mount  the  top  with  my  aspiring  wings. 
Although  my  downfall  be  the  deepest  hell. 
For  this  I  wake,  when  others  think  I  sleep ; 


1  "  About  noone,  when  he  [the  Admiral]  was  in  returning  home  from 
the  Counsell,  with  a  greate  companie  of  noblemen  and  gentlemen, 
beholde  a  harquebuzier  out  of  a  window  of  a  house  neere  adjoyning  shot 
the  Admiral  with  two  bullets  of  lead  through  both  the  arms.  . .  .  The  name 
of  him  that  shot  was  very  diligently  kept  secret.  Some  saye  it  was 
Manrevet,  which  in  the  third  Civill  War  traitorously  slew  his  Captaine, 
Monsieur  de  Mony,  a  most  valiant  and  noble  gentleman,  and  straightway 
fled  into  the  enemie's  carape.  Some  say  it  was  Bondot,  one  of  the 
archers  of  the  king's  guard." — The  Three  Partes  of  Co7nmentaries  con- 
taining the  whole  and  perfect  discourse  of  the  Civill  Wars  of  France,  &c. 
1574  (Book  3C.). 


244  '^^^^  Massacre  at  Paris.       [scene  h. 

For  this  I  wait,  that  scorn  attendance  else  ; 

For  this,  my  quenchless  thirst,  whereon  I  build, 

Hath  often  pleaded  kindred  to  the  king  ;  50 

For  this,  this  head,  this  heart,  this  hand,  and  sword, 

Contrives,  imagines,  and  fully  executes, 

Matters  of  import  aim^d  at  by  many, 

Yet  understood  by  none  ; 

For  this,  hath  heaven  engendered  me  of  earth ; 

For  this,  this  earth  sustains  my  body's  weight. 

And  with  this  weight  I'll  counterpoise  a  crown. 

Or  with  seditions  weary  all  the  world  ; 

For  this,  from  Spain  the  stately  Catholics 

Send  Indian  gold  to  coin  me  French  ecues  ;  ^  60 

For  this,  have  I  a  largess  from  the  Pope, 

A  pension,  and  a  dispensation  too ; 

And  by  that  privilege  to  work  upon, 

My  policy  hath  fram'd  religion. 

Religion  !   O  Diabole  ! 

Fie,  I  am  asham'd,  however  that  I  seem, 

To  think  a  word  of  such  a  simple  sound. 

Of  so  great  matter  should  be  made  the  ground  ! 

The  gentle  king,  whose  pleasure  uncontroll'd 

Weakeneth  his  body,  and  will  waste  his  realm,  70 

If  I  repair  not  what  he  ruinates,'^ — 

Him,  as  a  child,  I  daily  win  with  words. 

So  that  for  proof  he  barely  bears  the  name  ; 

I  execute,  and  he  sustains  the  blame. 


1  Crowns. 

2  This  word  occurs  in  3  Henry  VI.,  v.  i,  and  Titus  Andronicus,  v.  3  ; 
also  in  Shakespeare's  Sonnets  and  Rape  of  Lucrece. 


SCENE  II.]         The  Massacre  at  Paris.  245 

The  Mother-Queen  works  wonders  for  my  sake, 

And  in  my  love  entombs  the  hope  of  France, 

Rifling  the  bowels  of  her  treasury, 

To  supply  my  wants  and  necessity. 

Paris  hath  full  five  hundred  colleges, 

As  monasteries,  priories,  abbeys,  and  halls,  80 

Wherein  are  thirty  thousand  able  men 

Besides  a  thousand  sturdy  student  Catholics  : 

And  more, — of  my  knowledge,  in  one  cloister  keep  ^ 

Five  hundred  fat  Franciscan  friars  and  priests  : 

All  this,  and  more,  if  more  may  be  comprised. 

To  bring  the  will  of  our  desires  to  end. 

Then,  Guise, 

Since  thou  hast  all  the  cards  within  thy  hands, 

To  shuffle  or  cut,  take  this  as  surest  thing, 

That,  right  or  wrong,  thou  deal  thyself  a  king. —  90 

Ay,  but,  Navarre,^ — 'tis  but  a  nook  of  France, 

Sufificient  yet  for  such  a  petty  king, 

That,  with  a  rabblement  of  his  heretics. 

Blinds  Europe's  eyes,  and  troubleth  our  estate. 

Him  will  we — ^Pointing  to  his  sword]  but  first  let's  follow 

those  in  France 
That  hinder  our  possession  to  the  crown. 
As  Caesar  to  his  soldiers,  so  say  I, — 
Those  that  hate  me  will  I  learn  to  loathe. 
Give  me  a  look,  that,  when  I  bend  the  brows, 
Pale  death  may  walk  in  furrows  of  my  face  ;  100 

A  hand,  that  with  a  grasp  may  gripe  the  world  ; 

1  Dwell.     (In  this  sense  the  word  "keep "  is  still  used  at  Cambridge. ) 
■■*  Old  ed.  "  Nauarre,  Nauarre." 


246  The  Massacre  at  Paris.      [scene  m. 

An  ear  to  hear  what  my  detractors  say ; 

A  royal  seat,  a  sceptre,  and  a  crown  ; 

That  those  which  do  behold,  they  ^  may  become 

As  men  that  stand  and  gaze  against  the  sun. 

The  plot  is  laid,  and  things  shall  come  to  pass 

Where  resolution  strives  for  victory.  \Exit. 

SCENE  III. 

Enter  the  King  of  Navarre,^  Queen  Margaret,  the 
Old  Queen  of  Navarre,  the  Prince  of  CoNDife, 
and  the  Admiral  ;  they  are  met  by  the  Apothecary 
7vith  the  gloves,  which  he  gives  to  the  Old  Queen. 

Apoth.   Madam, 
I  beseech  your  grace  to  accept  this  simple  gift. 

Old  Q.  of  Nav.  Thanks,  my  good  friend.     Hold,  take 

thou  this  reward.  \Gives  a  purse. 

Apoth.   I  humbly  thank  your  majesty.  \Exit. 

Old  Q.  of  Nav.  Methinks  the  gloves  have  a  very  strong 

perfume. 

The  scent  whereof  doth  make  my  head  to  ache. 

Nav.  Doth  not  your  grace  know  the  man  that  gave 

them  you  ? 
Old  Q.  of  Nav.  Not  well;  but  do  remember  such  a 

man. 
Adm.  Your  grace  was  ill-advised  to  take  them,  then. 
Considering  of  these  dangerous  times.  10 


1  So  old  ed. — Dyce  reads,  "That  those  which  do  behold  them." 

2  Scene  :  a  street. 


SCENE  III.]       The  Massacre  at  Paris.  247 

Old  Q.  of  Nav.  Help,  son  Navarre  !    I  am  poisoned  ! 

Mar.  The  heavens  forbid  your  highness  such  mishap  ! 

Nav.  The  late  suspicion  of  the  Duke  of  Guise 
Might  well  have  moved  your  highness  to  beware 
How  you  did  meddle  with  such  dangerous  gifts. 

Mar.  Too  late  it  is,  my  lord,  if  that  be  true, 
To  blame  her  highness ;  but  I  hope  it  be 
Only  some  natural  passion  makes  her  sick. 

Old  Q.  of  Nav.  O  no,  sweet  Margaret !  the  fatal  poison 
Works  within  my  head,';  my  brain-pan  breaks  ;  20 

My  heart  doth  faint ;  I  die  !  ^Dies. 

Nav.  My  mother  poisoned  here  before  my  face  ! 
O  gracious  God,  what  times  are  these ! 
O  grant,  sweet  God,  my  days  may  end  with  hers, 
That  I  with  her  may  die  and  live  again  ! 

Mar.  Let  not  this  heavy  chance,  my  dearest  lord 
(For  whose  effects  my  soul  is  massacred). 
Infect  thy  gracious  breast  with  fresh  supply 
To  aggravate  our  sudden  misery. 

Adm.  Come,  my  lords,  let  us  bear  her  body  hence,  3° 
And  see  it  honoured  with  just  solemnity. 

\^As  they  are  going  out,  the  Soldier  dischargeth  his 
musket  at  the  Admiral. 
Con.  What,  are  you  hurt,  my  Lord  High  Admiral  ? 

Adm.  Ay,  my  good  lord,  shot  through  the  arm. 

Nav.  We  ^  are  betrayed  !     Come,  my  lords. 
And  let  us  go  tell  the  king  of  this. 

1  Cunningham  arranges  11.  34-5  thus  : 

"  We  are  betrayM  !  come,  my  lords,  and  let  us 
Go  tell  the  king  of  this." 


248  The  Massacre  at  Paris.       [scene  iv. 

Adm.  These  are 
The  cursed  Guisians,  that  do  seek  our  death. 
O  fatal  was  this  marriage  to  us  all  ! 

{Exeunt,  bearing  out  the  body  of  the 
Old  Queen  of  Navarre. 


SCENE  IV. 

Enter  ^  King  Charles,  Catherine  the  Queen- Mother, 
Guise,  Anjou,  and  Dumaine. 

Cath.   My  noble  son,  and  princely  Duke  of  Guise, 
Now  have  we  got  the  fatal,  straggling  deer 
Within  the  compass  of  a  deadly  toil, 
And,  as  we  late  decreed,  we  may  perform. 

Char.  Madam,  it  will  be  noted  through  the  world 
An  action  bloody  and  tyrannical  ; 
Chiefly,  since  under  safety  of  our  word 
They  justly  challenge  their  protection  : 
Besides,  my  heart  relents  that  noblemen, 
Only  corrupted  in  religion,  10 

Ladies  of  honour,  knights,  and  gentlemen. 
Should,  for  their  conscience,  taste  such  ruthless  ends. 

AnJ.  Though  gentle  minds  should  pity  others'  pain. 
Yet  will  the  wisest  note  their  proper  griefs. 
And  rather  seek  to  scourge  their  enemies 
Than  be  themselves  base  subjects  to  the  whip. 

Guise.  Methinks  my  Lord  Anjou  hath  well  advised 

1  Scene  :  an  apartment  in  the  Louvre. 


SCENE  IV.]       The  Massacre  at  Paris.  249 

Your  highness  to  consider  of  the  thing, 

And  rather  choose  to  seek  your  country's  good 

Than  pity  or  relieve  these  upstart  heretics.  20 

Cath.  I  hope  these  reasons  may  serve  my  princely  son 
To  have  some  care  for  fear  of  enemies. 

Char.  Well,  madam,  I  refer  it  to  your  majesty, 
And  to  my  nephew  here,  the  Duke  of  Guise  : 
What  you  determine,  I  will  ratify. 

Cath.    Thanks  to  my  princely  son. — Then  tell  me. 
Guise, 
What  order  will  you  set  down  for  the  massacre  ? 

Guise.  Thus,  madam.     They 
That  shall  be  actors  in  this  massacre. 
Shall  wear  white  crosses  on  their  burgonets,  3° 

And  tie  white  linen  scarfs  about  their  arms  : 
He  that  wants  these,  and  is  suspect  ^  of  heresy, 
Shall  die,  be  he  king  or  emperor.     Then  I'll  have 
A  peal  of  ordnance  shot  from  the  tower,  at  which 
They  all  shall  issue  out,  and  set-  the  streets ; 
And  then, 

The  watch-word  being  given,  a  bell  shall  ring. 
Which  when  they  hear,  they  shall  begin  to  kill, 
And  never  cease  until  that  bell  shall  cease  ; 
Then  breathe  a  while.  40 

Enter  the  Admiral's  Serving-Man. 
Char.  How  now,  fellow  !  what  news  ? 

1  So  Dyce. — Old  ed.  "suspected." 

2  Beset. 


250  The  Massacre  at  Paris.       [scene  v. 

Serv.-M.  An  it  please   your  grace,    the   Lord   High 
Admiral, 
Riding  the  streets,  was  traitorously  shot ; 
And  most  humbly  ^  entreats  your  majesty 
To  visit  him,  sick  in  his  bed. 

Char.  Messenger,  tell  him  I  will  see  him  straight. 

[^.T/V  Serv.-M. 
What  shall  we  do  now  with  the  Admiral  ? 

Cath.  Your  majesty  were  best  go  visit  him, 
And  make  a  show  as  if  all  were  well. 

Char.   Content ;  I  will  go  visit  the  Admiral.  50 

Guise.  And  I  will  go  take  order  for  his  death. 

\Exeunt.'^ 

SCENE  V. 
The^  Admiral  discovered  in  bed.    Enter  King  Charles. 

Char.  How  fares  it  with  my  Lord  High  Admiral  ? 
Hath  he  been  hurt  with  villains  in  the  street  ? 
I  vow  and  swear,  as  I  am  king  of  France, 
To  find  and  to  repay  the  man  with  death, 
With  death  delayed  and  torments  never  us'd, 
That  durst  presume,  for  hope  of  any  gain. 
To  hurt  the  nobleman  their  *  sovereign  loves. 


1  Old  ed.  "humble." 

2  Not  marked  in  old  ed. 

3  Old  ed.  "  Enter  the  Admirall  in  his  bed, "a  stage-direction  meaning 
that  a  bed  containing  the  Admiral  should  be  thrust  upon  the  stage. 
Cf.  a  stage-direction  in  Heywood's  Golden  Age : — "  Enter  the  foure  old 
Beldams,  drawing  out  Danae's  bed,  she  in  it.^'' 

*  Dyce  reads  "  his." 


SCENE  VI.]       The  Massacre  at  Paris.  251 

Adtn.  Ah,  my  good  lord,  these  are  the  Guisians, 
That  seek  to  massacre  our  guiltless  lives  ! 

Char.  Assure  yourself,  my  good  Lord  Admiral,         ro 
I  deeply  sorrow  for  your  treacherous  wrong  ; 
And  that  I  am  not  more  secure  myself 
Than  I  am  careful  you  should  be  preserv'd.' — 
Cousin,  take  twenty  of  our  strongest  guard, 
And,  under  your  direction,  see  they  keep 
All  treacherous  violence  from  our  noble  friend ; 
Repaying  all  attempts  with  present  death 
Upon  the  cursed  breakers  of  our  peace. — 
And  so  be  patient,  good  Lord  Admiral, 
And  every  hour  I  will  visit  you.  20 

AdfH.   I  humbly  thank  your  royal  majesty. 

\Exit  Charles.     The  bed  is  drawn  in. 


SCENE  VL 

Enter  ^  Guise,  Anjou,  Dumaine,  Gonzago,  Retes, 
MoUNTSORRELL,  and  Soldiers,  to  the  massacre. 

Guise.  Anjou,  Dumaine,  Gonzago,  Retes,  swear, 
By  the  argent  crosses  in  your  burgonets, 
To  kill  all  that  you  suspect  of  heresy. 

Dum.  I  swear  by  this,  to  be  unmerciful. 

Anj.  I  am  disguis'd,  and  none  knows  who  I  am. 
And  therefore  mean  to  murder  all  I  meet. 

Gon.  And  so  will  I. 

1  Scene  :  a  street. 


252  The  Massacre  at  Paris.       [scene  vi. 

Retes.  And  I. 

Guise.  Away,  then  !  break  into  the  Admiral's  house. 

Retes.  Ay,  let  the  Admiral  be  first  despatch'd. 

Guise.  The  Admiral,  10 

Chief  standard-bearer  to  the  Lutherans, 
Shall  in  the  entrance  ^  of  this  massacre 
Be  murder'd  in  his  bed. 
Gonzago,  conduct  them  thither ;  and  then 
Beset  his  house,  that  not  a  man  may  live. 

Anj.  That  charge  is  mine. — Switzers,  keep  you    the 
streets ; 
And  at  each  corner  shall  the  king's  guard  stand. 

Gon.  Come,  sirs,  follow  me. 

\_Exit  Gonzago  with  others. 

Anj.   Cousin,  the  captain  of  the  Admiral's  guard, 
Plac'd  by  my  brother,  will  betray  his  lord.  20 

Now,  Guise,  shall  Catholics  flourish  once  again ; 
The  head  being  off,  the  members  cannot  stand. 

Retes.   But  look,  my  lord,  there's  some  in  the  Admiral's 
house. 

Gonzago  and  others  enter  the  Admiral's  house ;  the 
Admiral  discovered  in  bed. 

Anj.  In  lucky  time  :  come,  let  us  keep  this  lane. 
And  slay  his  servants  that  shall  issue  out. 
Gon.  Where  is  the  Admiral  ? 
Adm.  O  let  me  pray  before  I  die  ! 

*  Commencement.     Dyce  quotes  from  Heywood's  Four  Prentices  of 
London  : — 

"Take  them  to  guard  :  this  entrance  to  our  warres 
Is  full  of  spirit,  and  begets  much  hope." 


SCENE  VI.]       The  Massac7'e  at  Paris.  253 

Gon.  Then  pray  unto  our  Lady;  kiss  this  cross. 

\Stabs  him. 

Adm.  O  God,  forgive  my  sins  !  \^Dies. 

Guise.  Gonzago,  what,  is  he  dead  ? 

Gon.  Ay,  my  lord.  30 

Guise.  Then  throw  him  down.^ 

\The  body  of  the  Admiral  is  thrown  doum. 

Anj.   Now,  cousin,  view  him  well  : 
It  maybe  'tis  some  other,  and  he  escap'd. 

Guise.  Cousin,  'tis  he ;  I  know  him  by  his  look  : 
See  where  my  soldier  shot  him  through  the  arm  ; 
He  miss'd  him  near,  but  we  have  struck  him  now. — 
Ah,  base  Chatillon  and  degenerate. 
Chief  Standard-bearer  to  the  Lutherans, 
Thus,  in  despite  of  thy  religion, 
The  Duke  of  Guise  stamps  on  thy  lifeless  bulk  ! 

Anj.  Away    with    him  !    cut    off   his    head    and 

hands,  40 

And  send  them  for  a  present  to  the  Pope ;  ^ 
And,  when  this  just  revenge  is  finished, 
Unto  Mount  Faucon  ^  will  we  drag  his  corse  ; 


1  From  the  upper  stage. 

2  "Then  a  certain  Itahan  of  Gonzague's  band  cut  off  the  Admiral's 
head,  and  sent  it,  preserved  with  spices,  to  Rome  to  the  Pope  and  the 
Cardinal  of  Lorraine.  Others  cut  off  his  hands." — Three  Parts  of  Com- 
mentaries, &c.,  Book  X.  p.  14. 

s  "  So  the  old  ed. ;  and  so  indeed  our  early  authors  usually  wrote  the 
name  : 

'  O,  may  they  once  as  high  as  Haman  mount, 
And  from  Mount  Faulcon  give  a  sad  account,'  &c. 
Sylvester's  Du  Bartas's  Works." — Dyce. 


254  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  vn. 

And  he,  that  living  hated  so  the  Cross, 

Shall,  being  dead,  be  hanged  thereon  in  chains. 

Guise.  Anjou,  Gonzago,  Retes,  if  that  you  three 
Will  be  as  resolute  as  I  and  Dumaine, 
There  shall  not  a  Huguenot  breathe  in  France. 

Anj.  I  swear  by  this  cross,  we'll  not  be  partial, 
But  slay  as  many  as  we  can  come  near.  50 

Guise.  Mountsorrell,  go  shoot  the  ordnance  off, 
That  they,  which  have  already  set  the  street. 
May  know  their  watchword  ;  then  toll  the  bell, 
And  so  let's  forward  to  the  massacre. 

Mount.  I  will,  my  lord.  \F.xit. 

Guise.  And  now,  my  lords,  let's  closely  to  our  business. 

Anj.   Anjou  will  follow  thee. 

Dum.  And  so  will  Dumaine. 

\The  ordnance  being  shot  off,  the  bell  tolls. 

Guise.  Come,  then,  let's  away.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  VII. 

Enter  ^  Guise  and  the  rest  with  their  swords  drawn, 
chasing  the  Protestants. 

Guise.   Tuez,  tuez,  tuez  1 
Let  none  escape  !  murder  the  Huguenots  ! 

Anj.  Kill  them  !  kill  them  !  \Exeunt 

Enter  Loreine  running;  Guise  and  the  rest  pursuing  him. 

Guise.  Loreine,  Loreine  !  follow  Loreine  ! — Sirrah, 
Are  you  a  preacher  of  these  heresies  ? 

1  Scene :  a  street. 


SCENE  viH.]     The  Massacre  at  Paris.  255 

Lor.   I  am  a  preacher  of  the  word  of  God  ; 
And  thou  a  traitor  to  thy  soul  and  him. 

Guise.   "  Dearly  beloved  brother," — thus  'tis  written. 

\Stabs  LoREiNE,  who  dies. 
Anj.  Stay,  my  lord,  let  me  begin  the  psalm. 
Guise.  Come,  drag  him  away,  and  throw  him  in  a 
ditch.  \Exeunt  with  the  body.      10 


SCENE  VIII. 

Enter  ^  Mountsorrell,  and  knocks  at  Seroune's  door. 

Seroune's  Wife  [within].  Who  is  that  which   knocks 

there  ? 
Mount.  Mountsorrell,  from  the  Duke  of  Guise. 
Serounis  Wife  [7i>ithin].   Husband,  come  down  ;  here's 

one  would  speak  with  you 
From  the  Duke  of  Guise. 

Enter  Seroijne  from  tlie  house. 

Ser.  To  speak  with  me,  from  such  a  man  as  he  ? 
Mount.  Ay,  ay,  for  this,  Seroune ;  and  thou  shalt  ha't. 

[Showifig  his  dagger. 
Ser.  O,  let  me  pray,  before  I  take  my  death  ! 
Mount.  Despatch,  then,  quickly. 
Ser.  O  Christ,  my  Saviour  ! 
Mount.  Christ,  villain  ! 
Why,  darest  thou  presume  to  call  on  Christ,  10 

1  Scene  :  the  entrance  to  Seroune's  house. 


256  The  Massacre  at  Paris.       [scene  ix. 

Without  the  intercession  of  some  saint  ? 
Sandus'^  Jacobus,  he's^  my  saint;  pray  to  him. 

Ser.  O  let  me  pray  unto  my  God  ! 
'    Mount.  Then  take  this  with  you. 

[^Stabs  Seroune,  7vho  dies  ;  and  then  exit. 


SCENE  IX. 
Enter  Ramus,  in  his  study. 

Ramus.  What  fearful  cries  come  from  the  river  Seine,^ 
That  fright  poor  Ramus  sitting  at  his  book  ! 
I  fear  the  Guisians  have  pass'd  the  bridge, 
And  mean  once  more  to  menace  me. 

Enter  Tal^us. 

Tal.  Fly,  Ramus,  fly,  if  thou  wilt  save  thy  life  ! 

Ramus.  Tell  me,  Talaeus,  wherefore  should  I  fly  ? 

Tal.  The  Guisians  are 
Hard  at  thy  door,  and  mean  to  murder  us  : 
Hark,  hark,  they  come  !  I'll  leap  out  at  the  window. 

Ramus.  Sweet  Talsus,  stay.  10 

Enter  Gonzago  and  Retes. 

Gon.  Who  goes  there  ? 

Retes.  'Tis  Talaeus,  Ramus'  bedfellow. 

Gon.  What  art  thou  ? 

Tal.  I  am,  as  Ramus  is,  a  Christian. 

Retes.  O,  let  him  go ;  he  is  a  Catholic.   \^Exit  Taueus. 

1  Old  ed.  "Sancta."  ^  Old  ed.  "he  was." 

3  Olded.  "Rene." 


SCENE  IX.]       The  Massacre  at  Paris.  257 

Goju  Come,  Ramus,  more  gold,  or  thou  shalt  have 
the  stab. 

Ramus.  Alas,  I  am  a  scholar  !  how  should  I  have  gold  ? 
All  that  I  have  is  but  my  stipend  from  the  king. 
Which  is  no  sooner  receiv'd  but  it  is  spent. 

Enter  Guise,  Anjou,  Dumaine,  Mountsorrell,  and 
Soldiers. 

Anj.  Who  have  you  there  ? 

Retes.  'Tis  Ramus,  the  king's  Professor  of  Logic. 

Guise.  Stab  him.  20 

Ramus.  O,  good  my  lord, 
Wherein  hath  Ramus  been  so  offensious  ? 

Guise.  Marry,  sir,  in  having  a  smack  in  all, 
And  yet  didst  never  sound  anything  to  the  depth. 
Was  it  not  thou  that  scofif'dst  ^  the  Organon, 
And  said  it  was  a  heap  of  vanities  ? 
He  that  will  be  a  flat  dichotomist. 
And  seen  in  nothing  but  epitomes, 
Is  in  your  judgment  thought  a  learned  man ; 
And  he,  forsooth,  must  go  and  preach  in  Germany,      30 
Excepting  against  doctors'  axioms,^ 
And  ipse  dixi  with  this  quiddity, 
Argumentum  testifiionii  est  inartificiale.^ 
To  contradict  which,  I  say,  Ramus  shall  die  : 
How  answer  you  that  ?  your  nego  argumentum 
Cannot  serve,  sirrah. — Kill  him. 

i  Old  ed.  "scoftes."  2  Old  ed.  "actions." 

'  I  have  adopted  Mitford's  emendation.     The  reading  of  the  old  ed. 
is  "Argumentum  testimonis  est  in  arte  fetialis." 

VOL.  II.  R 


258  The  Massacre  at  Paris.       [scene  ix. 

Ranms.  O,  good  my  lord,  let  me  but  speak  a  word  ! 

Anj.  Well,  say  on. 

Ramus.  Not  for  my  life  do  I  desire  this  pause  ; 
But  in  my  latter  hour  to  purge  myself,  40 

In  that  I  know  the  things  that  I  have  wrote, 
Which,  as  I  hear,  one  Scheckius  ^  takes  it  ill, 
Because  my  places,^  being  but  three,  contain  all  his. 
I  knew  the  Organon  to  be  confus'd. 
And  I  reduc'd  it  into  better  form  : 
And  this  for  Aristotle  will  I  say, 
That  he  that  despiseth  him  can  ne'er 
Be  good  in  logic  or  philosophy  ; 
And  that's  because  the  blockish  Sorbonnists  ^ 
Attribute  as  much  unto  their  [own]  works  50 

As  to  the  service  of  the  eternal  God. 

Guise.  Why  suffer  you  that  peasant  to  declaim  ? 
Stab  ^  him,  I  say,  and  send  him  to  his  friends  in  hell. 
AnJ.  Ne'er  was  there  collier's  ^  son  so  full  of  pride. 

\_Stabs  Ramus,  who  dies. 


1  Olded.  "Shekins." 

2  Grounds  of  proof, — in  the  scholastic  sense  of  riTroj,  or  loci.  "  Itaque 
licet  definire,  locurnesse  argumenti  sedem." — Cicero,  Top.  ii.  3. 

3  Old  ed.  "  thorbonest." 

4  ",  .  .  tandemque  P.  Ramum  diu  quaesitum  vicariorum  coryphaeus 
unus  offendit,  eique  veniam  frustra  deprecanti  vulnus  in  brachio  infligit, 
et  plurimis  aliis  ictibus  postea  confoditur.  .  .  .  E  fenestra  spiritum  trahens 
praecipitatur  in  aream,  pedibusque  fune  devinctis  per  urbis  sordes  devol- 
vitur  et  capite  a  chirurgo  quodam  truncato  cadaver  in  .  .  .  Sequanam 
flumen  misere  projicitur." — Theophilus  Banosius'  Vita  A'awz,  prefixed 
to  Commentarii  de  Religione  Christiana  (Francofurti,  1577). 

5  "  '  Carbonarius  pater  probri  loco  illi  [sc.  Ramo]  objectus  est. 
Rami  Vita  per  Freigium.'' — Dyce. 


SCENE  IX.]       The  Massacre  at  Paris.  259 

Guise.  My  Lord  of  Anjou,  there  are  a  hundred  Pro- 
testants 
Which  we  have  chased  into  tlie  river  Seine/ 
That  swim  about,  and  so  preserve  their  lives  : 
How  may  we  do  ?  I  fear  me  they  will  live. 

Dum.  Go  place  some  men  upon  the  bridge, 
With  bows  and  darts,  to  shoot  at  them  they  see,  60 

And  sink  them  in  the  river  as  they  swim. 

Guise.  'Tis  well  advis'd,  Dumaine ;  go  see  it  straight 
be  done.  \Exit  Dumaine. 

And  in  the  meantime,  my  lord,  could  we  devise 
To  get  those  pedants  from  the  King  Navarre, 
That  are  tutors  to  him  and  the  Prince  of  Conde — 

Anj.  For  that,  let  me  alone  :  cousin,  stay  you  here, 
And  when  you  see  me  in,  then  follow  hard.- 

Anjou  knocketh  at  the  door:  and  enter  the  King  of 
Navarre  aiid  the  Prince  of  Conde,^  with  their 
two  Schoolmasters. 

How  now,  my  lords  !  how  fare  you  ? 

Nav.  My  lord,  they  say 
That  all  the  Protestants  are  massacred. 

AnJ.  Ay,  so  they  are;  but  yet,  what  remedy?  70 

I  have  done  what  I  could  to  stay  this  broil. 

Nav.  But  yet,  my  lord,  the  report  doth  run 
That  you  were  one  that  made  this  massacre. 

1  Old  ed.  "Rene." 

■-  The  scene  shifts  to  the  King  of  Navarre's  quarters  in  the  Louvre. 

3  The  young  Prince  of  Cond^,  cousin  to  the  King  of  Navarre. 


2  6o  The  Massacre  at  Paris.        [scene  x. 

Anj.  Who,  I  ?  you  are  deceiv'd ;  I  rose  but  now. 

[Guise  and  the  others  come  forward'^  from 
the  back  of  the  stage. 
Guise.  Murder  the  Huguenots  !  take   those   pedants 

hence  ! 
Nav.  Thou  traitor,  Guise,  lay  off  thy  bloody  hands  ! 
Con.  Come,  let  us  go  tell  the  king, 

\Exit  with  the  King  of  Navarre. 
Guise.  Come,  sirs, 
I'll  whip  you  to  death  with  my  poniard's  point. 

\Stabs  the  Schoolmasters,  who  die. 
Anj.  Away  with  them  both  ! 

[jExeunt  Anjou  a?id  Soldiers  with  the  bodies. 
Guise.  And  now,  sirs,  for  this  night  let  our  fury  stay. 
Yet  will  we  not  that  the  massacre  shall  end  :  8i 

Gonzago,  post  you  to  Orleans, 
Retes  to  Dieppe,  Mountsorrell  unto  Rouen, 
And  spare  not  one  that  you  suspect  of  heresy. 
And  now  stay 

That  bell,  that  to  the  devil's  matins  rings. 
Now  every  man  put  off  his  burgonet. 
And  so  convey  him  closely  to  his  bed.  \_Exeunt. 

SCENE  X. 

Enter^  Anjou,  with  two  Lords  of  Poland. 

Anj.  My  lords  of  Poland,  I  must  needs  confess, 
The  offer  of  your  Prince  Elector's  far 

1  The  stage-direction  in  old  ed.  is  "  Enter  Guise." 

2  Scene  :  a  room  in  the  Louvre. 


SCENE  X.]         The  Massacre  at  Paris.  261 

Beyond  the  reach  of  my  deserts  ; 

For  Poland  is,  as  I  have  been  inform'd, 

A  martial  people,  worthy  such  a  king 

As  hath  sufficient  counsel  in  himself 

To  lighten  doubts,  and  frustrate  subtle  foes ; 

And  such  a  king,  whom  practice  long  hath  taught 

To  please  himself  with  manage  of  the  wars, 

The  greatest  wars  within  our  Christian  bounds, —         10 

I  mean  our  wars  against  the  Muscovites, 

And,  on  the  other  side,  against  the  Turk, 

Rich  princes  both,  and  mighty  emperors. 

Yet,  by  my  brother  Charles,  our  King  of  France, 

And  by  his  grace's  council,  it  is  thought 

That,  if  I  undertake  to  wear  the  crown 

Of  Poland,  it  may  prejudice  their  hope 

Of  my  inheritance  to  the  crown  of  France  ; 

For,  if  th'  Almighty  take  my  brother  hence, 

By  due  descent  the  regal  seat  is  mine.  -20 

With  Poland,  therefore,  must  I  covenant  thus, — 

That  if,  by  death  of  Charles,  the  diadem 

Of  France  be  cast  on  me,  then,  with  your  leaves, 

I  may  retire  me  to  my  native  home. 

If  your  commission  serve  to  warrant  this, 

I  thankfully  shall  undertake  the  charge 

Of  you  and  yours,  and  carefully  maintain 

The  wealth  and  safety  of  your  kingdom's  right. 

First  Lord.  All  this,   and  more,  your  highness  shall 
command. 
For  Poland's  crown  and  kingly  diadem.  30 

Anj.  Then,  come,  my  lords,  let's  go.  \Exeunt. 


262  The  Massacre  at  Paris.       [scene  xi. 

SCENE  XI. 

Enter  ^  tivo  Men,  zvith  the  Admiral's  body. 

First  Man.  Now,    sirrah,  what  shall  we  do  with  the 
Admiral  ? 

Sec.  Man.  Why,  let  us  burn  him  for  an  heretic. 

First  Ma?i.  O  no  !  his  body  will  infect  the  fire,  and 
the  fire  the  air,  and  so  we  shall  be  poisoned  with  him. 

Sec.  Man.  What  shall  we  do,  then  ? 

First  Man.  Let's  throw  him  into  the  river. 

Sec.  Man.  O,  'twill  corrupt  the  water,  and  the  water 
the  fish,  and  the  ^  fish  ourselves  when  we  eat  them  ! 

First  Man.  Then  throw  him  into  the  ditch.  10 

Sec.  Man.  No,  no.     To  decide  all  doubts,  be  ruled  by 
me  :  let's  hang  him  here  upon  this  tree. 

First  Man.  Agreed. 

[  They  hang  up  the  body  on  a  tree,  and  then  exeunt. 

Filter  Guise,  Catherine  the  Queen-Mother,  and  the 
Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  zvith  Attendants. 

Guise.  Now,  madam,  how  like  you  our  lusty  Admiral  ? 

Cath.  Believe  me,  Guise,  he  becomes  the  place  so  well 
As  I  could  long  ere  this  have  wish'd  him  there. 
But  come. 
Let's  walk  aside  ;  the  air's  not  very  sweet. 

Guise.  No,  by  my  faith,  madam. — 

^  Scene:  near  Paris.  2  Old  ed.  "  ^^  the." 


SCENE  XL]        The  Massacre  at  Paris.  263 

Sirs,  take  him  away,  and  throw  him  in  some  ditch.        20 
\The  Attendants  bear  off  the  Admiral's  body. 
And  now,  madam,  as  I  understand. 
There  are  a  hundred  Huguenots  and  more. 
Which  in  the  woods  do  hold  their  synagogue. 
And  daily  meet  about  this  time  of  day  ; 
And  thither  will  I,  to  put  them  to  the  sword. 

Cath.  Do  so,  sweet  Guise ;  let  us  delay  no  time  ; 
For,  if  these  stragglers  gather  head  again, 
And  disperse  themselves  throughout  the  realm  of  Prance, 
It  will  be  hard  for  us  to  work  their  deaths. 
Be  gone ;  delay  no  time,  sweet  Guise. 

Guise.  Madam,  30 

I  go  as  whirlwinds  rage  before  a  storm.  \Exit. 

Cath.  My  Lord  of  Lorraine,  have  you  marked  of  late, 
How  Charles  our  son  begins  for  to  lament 
For  the  late  night's  work  which  my  Lord  of  Guise 
Did  make  in  Paris  among  the  Huguenots  ? 

Card.  Madam,  I  have  heard  him  solemnly  vow, 
With  the  rebellious  King  of  Navarre, 
To  revenge  their  deaths  upon  us  all. 

Cath.  Ay,  but,  my  lord,  let  me  alone  for  that ; 
For  Catherine  must  have  her  will  in  France.  40 

As  I  do  live,  so  surely  shall  he  die. 
And  Henry  then  shall  wear  the  diadem ; 
And,  if  he  grudge  or  cross  his  mother's  will, 
ril  disinherit  him  and  all  the  rest ; 
For  I'll  rule  France,  but  they  shall  wear  the  crown. 
And,  if  they  storm,  I  then  may  pull  them  down. 
Come,  my  lord,  let  us  go.  [Exeunt. 


264  The  Massacre  at  Paris,    [scene  xm. 


SCENE  XII. 

Enter  ^  five  or  six  Protestants,  with  books,  and  kneel 
together.     Then  enter  Guise  and  others. 

Guise.  Down  with  the  Huguenots  !  murder  them  ! 

First  Pro.  O  Monsieur  de  Guise,  hear  me  but  speak  ! 

Guise.  No,  villain  ;  that  tongue  of  thine. 
That  hath  blasphem'd  the  holy  Church  of  Rome, 
Shall  drive  no  plaints  into  the  Guise's  ears. 
To  make  the  justice  of  my  heart  relent. — 
Tuez.,  tuez,  tuez  !  let  none  escape. 

[  They  kill  the  Protestants. 
So,  drag  them  away.  \Exeunt  with  the  bodies. 

SCENE  XIII. 

Enter"-  King  Charles,  supported  by  the  King  of 
Navarre  atid  Epernoun  ;  Catherine  the,  Queen- 
Mother,  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  Plesh^^  and 
Attendants. 

Char.  O,  let  me  stay,  and  rest  me  here  awhile  ! 
A  griping  pain  hath  seiz'd  upon  my  heart ; 
A  sudden  pang,  the  messenger  of  death. 

Cath,  O,  say  not  so  !  thou  kill'st  thy  mother's  heart. 

Char,  I  must  say  so  ;  pain  forceth  me  complain. 

1  Scene  :  a  wood  near  Paris. 

-  Scene  :  a  room  in  the  Castle  of  Vincennes. 

2  Du-Plessis  Mornay. 


SCENE  XIII.]     The  Massacre  at  Paris.  265 

Nav.  Comfort  yourself,  my  lord,  and  have  no  doubt 
But  God  will  sure  restore  you  to  your  health. 

Char.  O  no,  my  loving  brother  of  Navarre  ! 
I  have  deserved  a  scourge,  I  must  confess ; 
Yet  is  their  ^  patience  of  another  sort  10 

Than  to  misdo  the  welfare  of  their  king  : 
God  grant  my  nearest  friends  may  prove  no  worse  ! 
O,  hold  me  up,  my  sight  begins  to  fail, 
My  sinews  shrink,  my  brains  turn  upside  down ; 
My  heart  doth  break  :  I  faint  and  die.  {^Dies. 

Cath.  What,  art  thou  dead,  sweet  son  ?  speak  to  thy 
mother  ! 

0  no,  his  soul  is  fled  from  out  his  breast. 
And  he  nor  hears  nor  sees  us  what  we  do  ! 
My  lords,  what  resteth  there  now  to  be  done. 

But  that  we  presently  despatch  ambassadors  20 

To  Poland,  to  call  Henry  back  again, 
To  wear  his  brother's  crown  and  dignity? 
Epemoun,  go  see  it  presently  be  done, 
And  bid  him  come  without  delay  to  us. 

Eper.  Madam,  I  will.  \Exit. 

Cath.  And  now, 

1  Old  ed.  "there,"  which  Dyce  silently  retains.  The  correction  was 
made  by  Cunningham,  who  explains  the  passage  thus  : — "  There  are  per- 
sons (you  yourself  and  my  Protestant  subjects,  for  instance)  from  whom 

1  have  deserved  a  scourge,  but  their  feelings  would  never  lead  them  to 
poison  their  king  ;  God  grant  that  my  dearest  relations  may  prove  to  have 
been  no  worse  than  those  who  ought  to  be  my  enemies,"  &c. — "  Scourge" 
must  surely  be  the  scourge  of  God.  Navarre  had  said,  "  God  will  sure 
restore  you  :  "  to  which  the  king  answers,  "  I  have  deserved  a  scourge  " 
from  God.  Before  1.  lo  a  line  or  more  referring  to  the  massacre  of  the 
Protestants  must  have  dropped  out. 


2  66  The  Massacre  at  Paris,    [scene  xm. 

My  lords,  after  these  funerals  be  done, 
We  will,  with  all  the  speed  we  can,  provide 
For  Henry's  coronation  from  Polony. 
Come,  let  us  take  his  body  hence.  3° 

[  The  body  of  King  Charles  is  borne  out ;  and 
exeunt  all  except  the  King  of  Navarre  and 
Plesh^. 

Nav.  And  now,  Pleshe,^  whilst  that  these  broils  do 
last, 
My  opportunity  may  serve  it  fit 
To  steal  from  France,  and  hie  me  to  my  home. 
For  there's  no  safety  in  this  realm  for  me  : 
And  now  that  Henry  is  call'd  from  Poland, 
It  is  my  due,  by  just  succession  ; 
And  therefore,  as  speedily  as  I  can  perform, 
ril  muster  up  an  army  secretly. 
For  fear  that  Guise,  join'd  with  the  King  of  Spain, 
Might  seek  ^  to  cross  me  in  mine  enterprise.  4° 

But  God,  that  always  doth  defend  the  right, 
Will  show  his  mercy,  and  preserve  us  still. 

Plesh'e.  The  virtues  of  our  true  religion 
Cannot  but  march,  with  many  graces  more, 
Whose  army  shall  discomfort  all  your  foes. 
And,  at  the  length,  in  Pampelonia  ^  crown 
(In  spite  of  Spain,  and  all  the  popish  power, 
That  holds  it  from  your  highness  wrongfully) 
Your  majesty  her  rightful  lord  and  sovereign. 


1  Old  ed.  "  Nauarre."  '  Old  ed.  "seeme.' 

2  Pampeluna. 


SCENE  XIV.]      TJie  illassacre  at  Paris.  267 

Nav.  Truth,  Pleshe  ;  and  God  so  prosper  me  in  all,  5° 
As  I  intend  to  labour  for  the  truth. 
And  true  profession  of  his  holy  word ! 
Come,  Pleshe,  let's  away  whilst  time  doth  serve. 

\Exeunt. 


SCENE  XIV. 

Trumpets  sound  within,  and  a  cry  of  "  Vive  le  Roi" 
two  or  three  times.  Enter  ^  Anjou  crozuned  as  King 
Henry  the  Third;  Catherine  the  Queen- Mother, 
the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  Guise,  Epernoun, 
MuGEROUN,  the  Cutpurse,  ajid  others. 

All.    Vive  le  Roi,  Vive  le  Roi  I    [A  flourish  of  trumpets. 

Cath.   Welcome  from  Poland,  Henry,  once  again  ! 
Welcome  to  France,  thy  father's  royal  seat  ! 
Here  hast  thou  a  country  void  of  fears, 
A  warlike  people  to  maintain  thy  right, 
A  watchful  senate  for  ordaining  laws, 
A  loving  mother  to  preserve  thy  state, 
And  all  things  that  a  king  may  wish  besides ; 
All  this,  and  more,  hath  Henry  with  his  crown. 

Card.  And  long  may  Henry  enjoy  all  this,  and  more !  10 

All.    Vive  le  Roi,  Vive  le  Roi  I  [A  flourish  of  trumpets. 

Henry.  Thanks  to  you  all.     The  guider  of  all  crowns 
Grant  that  our  deeds  may  well  deserve  your  loves  ! 
And  so  they  shall  if  fortune  speed  my  will. 
And  yield  your  thoughts  to  height  of  my  deserts. 

1  Scene :  a  hall  in  the  Louvre. 


268  TJie  Massacre  at  Pa7'is.     [scene  xiv. 

What  say  our  minions  ?  think  they  Henry's  heart 

Will  not  both  harbour  love  and  majesty  ? 

Put  off  that  fear,  they  are  already  join'd  : 

No  person,  place,  or  time,  or  circumstance. 

Shall  slack  my  love's  affection  from  his  bent :  20 

As  now  you  are,  so  shall  you  still  persist, 

Removeless  from  the  favours  of  your  king. 

Mug.  We  know  that  noble  minds  change  not   their 
thoughts 
For  wearing  of  a  crown,  in  that  your  grace 
Hath  worn  the  Poland  diadem  before 
You  were  invested  in  the  crown  of  France. 

Henry.   I  tell  thee,  Mugeroun,  we  will  be  friends, 
And  fellows  too,  whatever  storms  arise. 

Mtig.  Then  ^  may  it  please  your  majesty  to  give  me 
leave 
To  punish  those  that  do  profane  this  holy  feast.  30 

Henry.  How  mean'st  thou  that  ? 

[Mugeroun  ads  off  the  Cutpurse's  ear,  for  cutting 
the  gold  buttons  off  his  cloak. 

Cutp.  O  Lord,  mine  ear  ! 

Mug.  Come,  sir,  give  me  my  buttons,  and  here's  your 
ear. 

Guise.  Sirrah,  take  him  away. 

Henry.  Hands  off,  good  fellow ;  I  will  be  his  bail 
For  this  offence. — Go,  sirrah,  work  no  more 


1  I  should  prefer  to  read  : — 
"  Then  may  it  please 
Your  majesty  to  give  me  leave  to  punish 
Those  that  do  [dare]  profane  this  holy  feast." 


SCENE  XIV.]      The  Massacre  at  Paris.  269 

Till  this  our  coronation  day  be  past. — 

And  now, 

Our  solemn  rites  of  coronation  done, 

What  now  remains  but  for  a  while  to  feast,  40 

And  spend  some  days  in  barriers,  tourney,  tilt, 

And  like  disports,  such  as  do  fit  the  court? 

Let's  go,  my  lords  ;  our  dinner  stays  for  us. 

\^Exeunt  all  except  Catherine  the  Queen-Mother 
and  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine. 

Cath.  My  Lord  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  tell  me. 
How  likes  your  grace  my  son's  pleasantness  ? 
His  mind,  you  see,  runs  on  his  minions, 
And  all  his  heaven  is  to  delight  himself; 
And,  whilst  he  sleeps  securely  thus  in  ease, 
Thy  brother  Guise  and  we  may  now  provide 
To  plant  ourselves  with  such  authority  50 

As  not  a  man  may  live  without  our  leaves. 
Then  shall  the  Catholic  faith  of  Rome 
Flourish  in  France,  and  none  deny  the  same. 

Card.  Madam,  as  in  secrecy  I  was  told, 
My  brother  Guise  hath  gather'd  a  power  of  men, 
Which  are,^  he  saith,  to  kill  the  Puritans  ; 
But  'tis  the  house  of  Bourbon  that  he  means. 
Now,  madam,  must  you  insinuate  with  the  king. 
And  tell  him  that  'tis  for  his  country's  good. 
And  common  profit  of  religion.  60 

Cath.  Tush,  man,  let  me  alone  with  him, 
To  work  the  way  to  bring  this  thing  to  pass ; 

1  Olded.  "as." 


270  The  Massacre  at  Pa7'is.      [scene  xv. 

And,  if  he  do  deny  what  I  do  say, 

I'll  despatch  him  with  his  brother  presently, 

And  then  shall  Monsieur  wear  the  diadem. 

Tush,  all  shall  die  unless  I  have  my  will ; 

For,  while  she  lives,  Catherine  will  be  queen. 

Come,  my  lord,^  let  us  go  seek  the  Guise, 

And  then  determine  of  this  enterprise.  \Exeu7ii. 

SCENE  XV. 

Ejiter'^  the  Duchess  of  Guise  and  her  Maid. 

Diich.  of  G.  Go  fetch  me  pen  and  ink, — 

Maid.  I  will,  madam. 

Duck.  That  I  may  write  unto  my  dearest  lord. 

{Exit  Maid. 
Sweet  Mugeroun,^  'tis  he  that  hath  my  heart, 
And  Guise  usurps  it  'cause  I  am  his  wife. 
Fain  would  I  find  some  means  to  speak  with  him. 
But  cannot,  and  therefore  am  enforced  to  write, 
That  he  may  come  and  meet  me  in  some  place, 
Where  we  may  one  enjoy  the  other's  sight. 

Re-enter  the  Maid,  with  fen,  ink,  and  paper. 

So,  set  it  down,  and  leave  me  to  myself. 

{Exit  Maid.     The  Duchess  writes. 

1  Olded.  "lords." 

2  Scene  :  a  room  in  the  Duke  of  Guise's  house. 

3  "The  gallant  of  the  Duchess  was  not  Mugeroun  (Maugiron),  but 
Saint-M^grin,  another  of  the  King's  '  Mignons.'  See  Anquetil. — Hist, 
de  France.,  t.  v.  345,  ed.  1817." — Dyce. 


SCENE  XV.]       The  Massacre  at  Pai'is.  271 

O,  would  to  God,  this  quill  that  here  doth  write  10 

Had  late  been  pluck'd  from  out  fair  Cupid's  wing, 
That  it  might  print  these  lines  within  his  heart ! 

Enter  Guise. 

Guise.  What,  all  alone,  my  love  ?  and  writing  too  ? 
I  prithee,  say  to  whom  thou  writ'st. 

Duck.  To  such 
A  one,  my  lord,  as,  when  she  reads  my  lines, 
Will  laugh,  I  fear  me,  at  their  good  array. 

Guise.  I  pray  thee,  let  me  see. 

Dtich.  O  no,  my  lord ;  a  woman  only  must 
Partake  the  secrets  of  my  heart. 

Guise.  But,  madam,  I  must  see.  20 

\Seizes  the  paper. 
Are  these  )^our  secrets  that  no  man  must  know  ! 

Duch.  O,  pardon  me,  my  lord  ! 

Guise.    Thou  trothless   and   unjust  !    what   lines   are 
these  ? 
Am  I  grown  old,  or  is  thy  lust  grown  young  ? 
Or  hath  my  love  been  so  obscured  in  thee. 
That  others  need  to  comment  on  my  text? 
Is  all  my  love  forgot,  which  held  thee  dear. 
Ay,  dearer  than  the  apple  of  mine  eye  ? 
Is  Guise's  glory  but  a  cloudy  mist, 

In  sight  and  judgment  of  thy  lustful  eye  ?  30 

Mort  Dieu  !  were  ^  not  the  fruit  within  thy  womb, 
Of  whose  increase  I  set  some  longing  hope, 

1  Old  ed.  "  wert." 


272  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  xvi. 

This  wrathful  hand  should  strike  thee  to  the  heart. 
Hence,  strumpet !  hide  thy  head  for  shame; 
And  fly  my  presence  if  thou  look  to  live  ! 

\Exit  Duchess. 
O  wicked  sex,  perjured  and  unjust ! 
Now  do  I  see  that  from  the  very  first 
Her  eyes  and  looks  sow'd  seeds  of  perjury. 
But  villain,  he,  to  whom  these  lines  should  go, 
Shall  buy  her  love  even  with  his  dearest  blood.    \Exii.  40 


SCENE  XVI. 

Efiter'^  the  King  of  Navarre,  Plesh^,  Bartus,  a?id 
train,  with  drums  and  trumpets. 

Nav.  My  lords,  sith  in  a  quarrel  just  and  right 
We  undertake  to  manage  these  our  wars 
Against  the  proud  disturbers  of  the  faith 
(I  mean  the  Guise,  the  Pope,  and  King  of  Spain, 
Who  set  themselves  to  tread  us  under  foot, 
And  rent  our  true  religion  from  this  land  ; 
But  for  you  know  our  quarrel  is  no  more 
But  to  defend  ^  their  strange  inventions. 
Which  they  will  put  us  to  with  sword  and  fire), 
We  must  with  resolute  minds  resolve  to  fight,  ic 

In  honour  of  our  God,  and  country's  good. 


1  "I  must  leave  the  location  of  this  scene  to  the  reader.  I  should 
have  marked  it— La  Rochelle,  but  that  the  Messenger  presently  informs 
the  King  that  '  a  mighty  army  comts  from  France.^  " — Dyce, 

'  Hinder. 


SCENE  XVI.]      The  Massacre  at  Par'is.  273 

Spain  is  the  council-chamber  of  the  Pope, 
Spain  is  the  place  where  he  makes  peace  and  war ; 
And  Guise  for  Spain  hath  now  incensed  the  king 
To  send  his  power  to  meet  us  in  the  field. 

Bar.  Then  in  this  bloody  brunt  they  may  behold 
The  sole  endeavour  of  your  princely  care, 
To  plant  the  true  succession  of  the  faith. 
In  spite  of  Spain  and  all  his  heresies. 

Nav.  The  power  of  vengeance  now  encamps  itself    20 
Upon  the  haughty  mountains  of  my  breast ; 
Plays  with  her  gory  colours  of  revenge, 
Whom  I  respect  as  leaves  of  boasting  green, 
That  change  their  colour  when  the  winter  comes, 
When  I  shall  vaunt  as  victor  in  revenge. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

How  now,  sirrah  !  what  news  ? 

Mes.  My  lord,  as  by  our  scouts  we  understand, 
A  mighty  army  comes  from  France  with  speed  ; 
Which  are  already  mustered  in  the  land, 
And  mean  to  meet  your  highness  in  the  field.  30 

Nav.  In  God's  name,  let  them  come  ! 
This  is  the  Guise  that  hath  incensed  the  king 
To  levy  arms,  and  make  these  civil  broils. 
But  canst  thou  tell  who  is  their  general  ? 

Mes.  Not  yet,  my  lord,  for  thereon  do  they  stay  ; 
But,  as  report  doth  go,  the  Duke  of  Joyeux 
Hath  made  great  suit  unto  the  king  therefore. 

Nav.  It  will  not  countervail  his  pains,  I  hope. 
I  would  the  Guise  in  his  stead  might  have  come  ! 

VOL.  II.  s 


2  74  The  Massac 7'e  at  Paris,    [scene  xvn. 

But  he  doth  lurk  within  his  drowsy  couch,  40 

And  makes  his  footstool  on  security  : 

So  he  be  safe,  he  cares  not  what  becomes 

Of  king  or  country ;  no,  not  for  them  both. 

But  come,  my  lords,  let  us  away  with  speed. 

And  place  ourselves  in  order  for  the  fight.  \Exeunt. 


SCENE  XVII. 

Enter  ^  King  Henry,  Guise,  Epernoun,  ajtd  Joyeux. 

Henry.   My  sweet  Joyeux,  I  make  thee  general 
Of  all  my  army,  now  in  readiness 
To  march  'gainst  the  rebellious  King  Navarre  ; 
At  thy  request  I  am  content  thou  go, 
Although  my  love  to  thee  can  hardly  suffer['t]. 
Regarding  still  the  danger  of  thy  life. 
Joyeux.  Thanks  to  your  majesty  :  and  so,  I  take  my 
leave. — 
Farewell  to  my  Lord  of  Guise,  and  Epernoun. 

Guise.  Health  and  hearty  farewell  to  my  Lord  Joyeux. 

[^Exif  Joyeux. 
Henry.  So  kindly,  cousin  of  Guise,  you  and  your  wife 
Do  both  salute  our  lovely  minions.  n 

Remember  you  the  letter,  gentle  sir. 
Which  your  wife  writ 
To  my  dear  minion,  and  her  chosen  friend  ? 

[Maies  horns  at  Guise. 

1  Scene  :  an  apartment  in  the  Louvre. 


SCENE  XVII.]     The  Massacre  at  Pa^Hs.  275 

Guise.   How  now,  my  lord  !  faith,  this  is  more  than 
need. 
Am  I  thus  to  be  jested  at  and  scorn'd  ? 
'Tis  more  than  kingly  or  emperious  : 
And,  sure,  if  all  the  proudest  kings 
In  Christendom  should  bear  me  such  derision, 
They  should  know  how  I  scorn'd  them  and  their  mocks.  20 
I  love  your  minions  !  dote  on  them  yourself; 
I  know  none  else  but  holds  them  in  disgrace ; 
And  here,  by  all  the  saints  in  heaven,  I  swear, 
That  villain  for  whom  I  bear  this  deep  disgrace. 
Even  for  your  words  that  have  incens'd  me  so. 
Shall  buy  that  strumpet's  favour  with  his  blood  ! 
Whether  he  have  dishonour'd  me  or  no. 
Far  la  mort  de  Dieii  ^  il  ??iourra  !  \Exit. 

Henry.  Believe  me,  this  jest  bites  sore. 

Eper.  My  lord,  'twere  good  to  make  them  friends,  30 
For  his  oaths  are  seldom  spent  in  vain. 

Enter  Mugeroun. 

Henry.   How  now,  Mugeroun  !  mett'st  thou  not  the 

Guise  at  the  door? 
Miig.  Not  I,  my  lord  ;  what  if  I  had  ? 
Henry.  Marry,  if  thou  hadst,  thou  mightst  have  had 
the  stab, 
For  he  hath  solemnly  sworn  thy  death. 

Mug.  I  may  be  stabb'd,  and  live  till  he  be  dead  : 
But  wherefore  bears  he  me  such  deadly  hate  ? 

Henry.  Because  his  wife  bears  thee  such  kindly  love. 

1  Old  ed.  "mor  du." 


276  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  xvm. 

Mug.   If  that   be  all,  the  next   time   that  I  meet 
her, 
I'll  make  her  shake  off  love  with  her  heels.  40 

But  which  way  is  he  gone  ?    I'll  go  take^  a  walk 
On  purpose  from  the  court  to  meet  with  him.         \Exit. 

Henry.  I  like  not  this.     Come,  Epernoun, 
Let  us  go  seek  the  duke,  and  make  them  friends. 

\Exeunt. 


SCENE  XVIII. 

Alarums  within,  and  a  cry — "  The  Duke  Joyeux  is  slain.^'' 
Enter'^  the  King  of  Navarre,  Bartus,  and  train. 

Nav.  The  duke  is  slain,  and  all  his  power  dispers'd. 
And  we  are  graced  with  wreaths  of  victory. 
Thus  God,  we  see,  doth  ever  guide  the  right, 
To  make  his  glory  great  upon  the  earth. 

Bar.  The  terror  of  this  happy  victory, 
I  hope,  will  make  the  king  surcease  his  hate. 
And  either  never  manage  army  more, 
Or  else  employ  them  in  some  better  cause. 

Nav.   How  many  noblemen  have  lost  their  lives 
In  prosecution  of  these  cruel  arms,  10 

Is  ruth,  and  almost  death,  to  call  to  mind. 
But  God  we  know  will  always  put  them  down 
That  lift  themselves  against  the  perfect  truth ; 
Which  I'll  maintain  so  long  as  life  doth  last, 

1  Old  ed.  "  make."  "  Scene  :  near  Coutras. 


SCENE  XIX.]      The  Alassacre  at  Paris.  277 

And  with  the  Queen  of  England  join  my  force 

To  beat  the  papal  monarch  from  our  lands, 

And  keep  those  reUcs  from  our  countries'  coasts. 

Come,  my  lords ;  now  that  this  storm  is  over-past, 

Let  us  away  with  triumph  to  our  tents.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  XIX. 

Eiiter'^  a  Soldier. 
Sold.  Sir,  to  you,  sir,  that   dares   make  the  duke  a 

1  Scene:  outside  the  Louvre.— In  his  Hist,  of  En^.  Dram.  Poetry, 
iii.  134  (old  ed.),  Collier  printed  a  portion  (given  below)  of  this  scene 
from  a  fragment  of  a  MS.  copy.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  printed  text 
was  much  mutilated. 

"  Enter  a  Souldier  with  a  muskett, 

Souldier.  Now,  sir,  to  you  that  dares  make  a  duke  a  cuckolde,  and 
use  a  counterfeyt  key  to  his  privye  chamber  :  though  you  take  out  none 
but  your  owne  treasure,  yett  you  put  in  that  displeases  him,  and  fill  up 
his  rome  that  he  shold  occupye.  Herein,  sir,  you  forestalle  the 
markett,  and  sett  up  your  standinge  where  you  shold  not.  But  you 
will  saye  you  leave  him  rome  enoghe  besides  :  that's  no  answere  ;  he's 
to  have  the  choyce  of  his  owne  freeland  ;  yf  it  be  not  too  free,  there's  the 
questione.  Nowe,  for  where  he  is  your  landlorde,  you  take  upon  you 
to  be  his,  and  will  needs  enter  by  defaulte  :  what  though  you  were  once 
in  possession,  yett  comminge  upon  you  once  unawares,  he  frayde  you 
out  againe  ;  therefore  your  entrye  is  mere  intrusione  :  this  is  against  the 
law,  sir :  and  though  I  come  not  to  keepe  possessione  (as  I  wolde  I 
might !),  yet  I  come  to  keepe  you  out,  sir. 

Enter  MiNION. 
You  are  wellcome,  sir  :  have  at  you  !  \He  kills  him. 

Minion.  Trayterouse  Guise,  ah,  thou  hast  morthered  me  ! 

Enter  GuiSE. 
Guise,  Hold  the[e],  tall  soldier !  take  the[e]  this,  and  five. 

\Exit  \Soldier\. 
Thus  fall,  imperfett  exhalatione, 
Which  our  great  sonn  of  France  cold  not  effecte  ; 


278  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  xix. 

cuckold,  and  use  a  counterfeit  key  to  his  privy-chamber- 
door  •  and  although  you  take  out  nothing  but  your  own, 
yet  you  put  in  that  which  displeaseth  him,  and  so  forestall 
his  market,  and  set  up  your  standing  where  you  should 
not;  and  whereas  he  is  your  landlord,  you  will  take  upon 
you  to  be  his,  and  till  the  ground  that  he  himself  should 
occupy,  which  is  his  own  free  land  ;  if  it  be  not  too  free 
— there's  the  question ;  and  though  I  come  not  to  take 
possession  (as  I  would  I  might !),  yet  I  mean  to  keep  you 
out;  which  I  will,  if  this  gear  hold.  n 

Enter  Mugeroun. 

What,  are  ye  come  so  soon  ?  have  at  ye,  sir ! 

\Shoots  at  Mugeroun  and  kills  him}- 


A  fyery  meteor  in  the  fermament : 

Lye  there,  the  kinge's  delyght  and  Guise's  scorne  ! 

Revenge  it,  Henry,  yf  thou  list  or  darst : 

I  did  it  onely  in  dispight  of  thee. 

Fondlie  hast  thou  incenste  the  Guise's  sowle, 

That  of  it  selfe  was  hote  enough  to  worke 

Thy  just  degestione  with  extreamest  shame. 

The  armye  I  have  gatherd  now  shall  ayme, 

More  at  thie  end  then  exterpatione  ; 

And  when  thou  thinkst  I  have  forgotten  this, 

And  that  thou  most  reposest  in  my  faythe, 

Than  will  I  wake  thee  from  thy  folishe  dreame, 

And  lett  thee  see  thie  selfe  my  prysoner.  [Exeunt." 

1  "  Mugeroun  (Maugiron)  fell  in  a  duel :  Anquetil,  Nis/.  de  France, 
t.  V.  344,  ed.  1817 :  but  Saint-M^grin,  the  gallant  of  the  Duchess  of 
Guise,  was  assassinated.  '  lis  dresserent  une  embuscade  a  la  porte  du 
Louvre.  Comme  Saint-M^grin,  en  sortoit  la  nuit,  des  assassins  apost& 
se  jet^rent  sur  lui,  et  I'^tendirent  sur  le  pav6,  perc6  de  trente-cinq  coups. 
II  v^cut  cependant  jusqu'au  lendemain. '   Anquetil,  Ibid.  p.  347." — Dyce. 


SCENE  XIX.]     The  Massacre  at  Paris.  279 

Enter  Guise  and  Attendants. 

Guise.  \Giving  a  purse\.   Hold  thee,  tall  soldier,  take 
thee  this,  and  fly.  \Exit  Soldier. 

Lie  there,  the  king's  delight,  and  Guise's  scorn  ! 
Revenge  it,  Henry,  as  thou  list  or  dare ; 
I  did  it  only  in  despite  of  thee. 

[Attendants  bear  off  Mugeroun's  body. 

Enter  King  Henry  a7id  Epernoun. 

Henry.  My  Lord  of  Guise,  we  understand 
That  you  have  gathered  a  power  of  men  : 
What  your  intent  is  yet  we  cannot  learn. 
But  we  presume  it  is  not  for  our  good.  20 

Guise.  Why,  I  am  no  traitor  to  the  crown  of  France ; 
What  I  have  done,  'tis  for  the  Gospel's  sake. 

Eper.  Nay,  for  the  Pope's  sake,  and  thine  own  benefit. 
What  peer  in  France  but  thou,  aspiring  Guise, 
Durst  be  in  arms  without  the  king's  consent  ? 
I  challenge  thee  for  treason  in  the  cause. 

Guise.  Ah,  base  Epernoun !  were  not  his  highness  here. 
Thou  shouldst  perceive  the  Duke  of  Guise  is  mov'd. 

Henry.  Be  patient,  Guise,  and  threat  not  Epernoun, 
Lest  thou  perceive  the  king  of  France  be  mov'd.  30 

Guise.  Why,  I'm  a  prince  of  the  Valois  line, 
Therefore  an  enemy  to  the  Bourbonites ; 
I  am  a  juror  in  the  holy  league. 
And  therefore  hated  of  the  Protestants: 
What  should  I  do  but  stand  upon  my  guard  ? 
And,  being  able,  I'll  keep  an  host  in  pay. 


2  8o  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  xix. 

Eper.  Thou  able  to  maintain  an  host  in  pay, 
That  liv'st  by  foreign  exhibition  !  ^ 
The  Pope  and  King  of  Spain  are  thy  good  friends ; 
Else  all  France  knows  how  poor  a  duke  thou  art.         40 

Henry.  Ay,  those  are  they  that  feed   him  with  their 
gold, 
To  countermand  our  will,  and  check  our  friends. 

Giiise.  My  lord,  to  speak  more  plainly,  thus  it  is. 
Being  animated  by  religious  zeal, 
I  mean  to  muster  all  the  power  I  can. 
To  overthrow  those  factious^  Puritans  : 
And    know,    my   lord,    the   Pope   will   sell    his    triple 

crown, 
Ay,  and  the  Catholic  Philip,  King  of  Spain, 
Ere  I  shall  want,  will  cause  his  Indians 
To  rip  the  golden  bowels  of  America.  50 

Navarre,  that  cloaks  them  underneath  his  wings. 
Shall  feel  the  house  of  Lorraine  is  his  (oq. 
Your  highness  needs  not  fear  mine  army's  force ; 
'Tis  for  your  safety,  and  your  enemies'  wreck. 

Henry.  Guise,  wear  our  crown,  and  be  thou  king  of 
France, 
And,  as  dictator,  make  or  war  or  peace, 
Whilst  I  cry  placet,  like  a  senator ! 
I  cannot  brook  thy  haughty  insolence  : 
Dismiss  thy  camp,  or  else  by  our  edict 
Be  thou  proclaim'd  a  traitor  throughout  France.  60 


1  Pension,  maintenance. 

2  Collier's  correction  for  the  old  copy's  "sexious." 


SCENE  XIX.]      The  Massacre  at  Paris.  281 

Guise.  The  choice  is  hard  ;  I  must  dissemble. — 

[Aside. 
My  lord,  in  token  of  my  true  humility, 
And  simple  meaning  to  your  majesty, 
I  kiss  your  grace's  hand,  and  take  my  leave. 
Intending  to  dislodge  my  camp  with  speed. 

Henry.  Then  farewell,  Guise ;  the  king  and  thou  are 
friends.  \Exit  Guise. 

E;per.  But  trust  him  not,  my  lord ;  for,  had  your  high- 
ness 
Seen  with  what  a  pomp  he  enter'd  Paris, 
And  how  the  citizens  with  gifts  and  shows 
Did  entertain  him,  70 

And  promised  to  be  at  his  command — 
Nay,  they  fear'd  not  to  speak  it  in  the  streets, 
That  the  Guise  durst  stand  in  arms  against  the  king, 
For  not  effecting  of  his  holiness'  will. 

Henry.  Did  they  of  Paris  entertain  him  so  ? 
Then  means  he  present  treason  to  our  state. 
Well,  let  me  alone. — Who's  within  there? 

Enter  an  Attendant,  with  pen  and  ink. 

Make  a  discharge  of  all  my  council  straight. 

And  I'll  subscribe  my  name,  and  seal  it  straight. — 

[Attendant  writes. 
My  head  shall  be  my  council ;  they  are  false ;  80 

And,  Epernoun,  I  will  be  rul'd  by  thee. 

Eper.  My  lord, 
I  think,  for  safety  of  your  royal  person. 


282  The  Massacre  at  Paris,      [scene  xx. 

It  would  be  good  the  Guise  were  made  away, 
And  so  to  quite  ^  your  grace  of  all  suspect. 

Henry.  First  let  us  set  our  hand  and  seal  to  this, 
And  then  I'll  tell  thee  what  I  mean  to  do. —       [  Writes. 
So ;  convey  this  to  the  council  presently. 

\_Exit  Attendant. 
And,  Epernoun,  though  I  seem  mild  and  calm. 
Think  not  but  I  am  tragical  within.  90 

I'll  secretly  convey  me  unto  Blois  ; 
For,  now  that  Paris  takes  the  Guise's  part, 
Here  is  no  staying  for  the  king  of  France, 
Unless  he  mean  to  be  betray'd  and  die  ; 
But,  as  I  live,  so  sure  the  Guise  shall  die.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  XX. 

Enter '^  the  King  of  Navarre,  reading  a  letter,  and 
Bartus. 

Nav.  My  lord,  I  am  advertised  from  France 
That  the  Guise  hath  taken  arms  against  the  king. 
And  that  Paris  is  revolted  from  his  grace. 

Bar.  Then  hath  your  grace  fit  opportunity 
To  show  your  love  unto  the  king  of  France, 
Offering  him  aid  against  his  enemies. 
Which  cannot  but  be  thankfully  receiv'd. 

Nav.  Bartus,  it  shall  be  so  :  post,  then,  to  France, 


1  Quit,  free. 

2  It  cannot  be  determined  where  this  scene  takes  place. 


SCENE  XX.]       The  Massacre  at  Paris.  283 

And  there  salute  his  highness  in  our  name  ; 

Assure  him  all  the  aid  we  can  provide  ^° 

Against  the  Guisians  and  their  complices. 

Bartus,  be  gone  :  commend  me  to  his  grace, 

And  tell  him,  ere  it  be  long,  I'll  visit  him. 

Bar.  I  will,  my  lord.  {Exit. 

Nav.  Pleshe  ! 

Enter  Pleshe. 

Pleshe.  My  lord  ? 

Nav.  Pleshe,  go  muster  up  our  men  with  speed, 
And  let  them  march  away  to  France  amain, 
For  we  must  aid  the  king  against  the  Guise. 
Begone,  I  say ;  'tis  time  that  we  were  there.  20 

Fleshe.  I  go,  my  lord.  [Exit. 

Nav.  That  wicked  Guise,  I  fear  me  much,  will  be 
The  ruin  of  that  famous  realm  of  France  ; 
For  his  aspiring  thoughts  aim  at  the  crown, 
And  ^  takes  his  vantage  on  religion. 
To  plant  the  Pope  and  Popelings  in  the  realm. 
And  bind  it  wholly  to  the  see  of  Rome. 
But,  if  that  God  do  prosper  mine  attempts. 
And  send  us  safely  to  arrive  in  France, 
We'll  beat  him  back,  and  drive  him  to  his  death,  30 

That  basely  seeks  the  ruin  of  his  realm.  [Exit. 

1  Dyce  reads  "'A  takes"  {i.e.  "He  takes") ;  but  the  omission  of  a 
personal  pronoun,  where  the  sense  is  plain,  occurs  not  unfrequently. 


284  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  xxi. 

SCENE  XXI. 

Enter  ^  the  Captain  of  the  Guard,  a7id  three  Murderers. 

Cap.   Come  on,  sirs.     What,  are  you  resolutely  bent, 
Hating  the  life  and  honour  of  the  Guise? 
What,  will  you  not  fear,  when  you  see  him  come  ? 

First  Murd.  Fear  him,  said  you  ?  tush,  were  he  here, 
we  would  kill  him  presently. 

Sec.  Murd.  O  that  his  heart  were  leaping  in  my  hand  ! 

Third  Murd.   But  when  will    he  come,  that  we    may 
murder  him  ? 

Cap.  Well,  then,  I  see  you  are  resolute. 

First  Murd.  Let  us  alone ;  I  warrant  you. 

Cap.  Then,    sirs,    take    your    standings    within    this 
chamber ;  10 

For  anon  the  Guise  will  come. 

All  three  Murderers.  You  will  give  us  our  money  ? 

Cap.  Ay,  ay,  fear  not :  stand  close  :  so ;  be  resolute. 

[Exeunt  Murderers. 
Now  falls  the  star  whose  influence  governs  France, 
Whose  light  was  deadly  to  the  Protestants  : 
Now  must  he  fall,  and  perish  in  his  height. 

Enter  King  Henry  and  Epernoun. 

Henry.  Now,  captain  of  my  guard,  are  these  murderers 

ready  ? 
Cap.  They  be,  my  good  lord. 

1  Scene  :  a  room  in  the  royal  palace  at  Blois. 


SCENE  XXI.]      The  Massacre  at  Paris.  285 

Henry.  But  are  they  resolute,  and  armed  to  kill, 
Hating  the  life  and  honour  of  the  Guise  ?  20 

Cap.  I  warrant  ye,  my  lord.  \Exit. 

Henry.  Then  come,  proud  Guise,  and  here  disgorge 
thy  breast, 
Surcharged  with  surfeit  of  ambitious  thoughts  ; 
Breathe  out  that  life  wherein  my  death  was  hid, 
And  end  thy  endless  treasons  with  thy  death. 

[^Knocking  within. 
Guise  \iiiithin\  Hold,  varlet,  he  ! — Epernoun,  where  is 

the  king  ? 
Eper.  Mounted  ^  his  royal  cabinet. 
Guise  \7inthiji\.  I  prithee,  tell  him  that  the  Guise  is  here. 
Eper.  An  please  your  grace,  the  Duke  of  Guise  doth 
crave 
Access  unto  your  highness. 

Henry.  Let  him  come  in. —  30 

Come,  Guise,  and  see  thy  traitorous  guile  outreach'd, 
And  perish  in  the  pit  thou  mad'st  for  me. 

Enter  Guise. 

Guise.  Good  morrow  to  your  majesty. 

Henry.  Good  morrow  to  my  loving  cousin  of  Guise  : 
How  fares  it  this  morning  with  your  excellence  ? 

Guise.   I  heard  your  majesty  was  scarcely  pleased, 
That  in  the  court  I  bear  so  great  a  train, 

Henry.  They  were  to  blame  that  said  I  was  displeased  ; 

1  Cf.  2    Tamburlainc  iv.  3: — "Mounted  his  shining  chariot"  (for 
"  mounted  in  "). 


AT 


286  The  JMassacrc  at  Paris,     [scene  xxi. 

And  you,  good  cousin,  to  imagine  it. 

'Twere  hard  with  me,  if  I  should  doubt  my  kin,  40 

Or  be  suspicious  of  my  dearest  friends. 

Cousin,  assure  you  I  am  resolute, 

Whatsoever  any  whisper  in  mine  ears, 

Not  to  suspect  disloyalty  in  thee  : 

And  so,  sweet  coz,  farewell.  \Exit  with  Epernoun. 

Guise.  So ; 
Now  sues  the  king  for  favour  to  the  Guise, 
And  all  his  minions  stoop  when  I  command : 
Why,  this  'tis  to  have  an  army  in  the  field. 
Now,  by  the  holy  sacrament,  I  swear,  50 

As  ancient  Romans  o'er  their  captive  lords. 
So  will  I  triumph  o'er  this  wanton  king ; 
And  he  shall  follow  my  proud  chariot's  wheels. 
Now  do  I  but  begin  to  look  about, 
And  all  my  former  time  was  spent  in  vain. 
Hold,  sword. 
For  in  thee  is  the  Duke  of  Guise's  hope. 

Re-enter  Tliird  Murderer. 

Villain,  why  dost  thou  look  so  ghastly?  speak. 

Third  Miird.  O,  pardon  me,  my  Lord  of  Guise  ! 

Guise.  Pardon  thee  !  why,  what  hast  thou  done?      60 

Third  Murd.  O  my  lord,  I  am  one  of  them  that  is  set 
to  murder  you  ! 

Guise.  To  murder  me,  villain  ! 

Third  Murd.  Ay,  my  lord  :  the  rest  have  ta'en  their 
standings  in  the  next  room ;  therefore,  good  my  lord,  go 
not  forth. 


SCENE  XXI.]      The  Massacre  at  Paris.  287 

Guise.  Yet  Caesar  shall  go  forth. 
Let  mean  conceits  and  baser  men  fear  death  : 
Tut,  they  are  peasants  ;  I  am  Duke  of  Guise  ; 
And  princes  with  their  looks  engender  fear.  70 

First  Murd.  \within\  Stand  close ;  he  is  coming ;  I 
know  him  by  his  voice. 

Guise.  As  pale  as  ashes !  ^  nay,  then,  it  is  time 
To  look  about. 

Enter  First  and  Second  Murderers. 

First  and  Sec.  Murderers.   Down  with  him,  down  with 
him  !  \_They  stab  Guise. 

Guise.  O,  I  have  my  death's  wound  !  give  me  leave  to 
speak. 

Sec.  Murd.  Then  pray  to  God,  and  ask  forgiveness  of 
the  king. 

Guise.  Trouble  me  not ;  I.  ne'er  offended  him, 
Nor  will  I  ask  forgiveness  of  the  king. 
O,  that  I  have  not  power  to  stay  my  life, 
Nor  immortality  to  be  revenged  !  80 

To  die  by  peasants,  what  a  grief  is  this  ! 
Ah,  Sixtus,  be  reveng'd  upon  the  king  ! 
Philip  and  Parma,  I  am  slain  for  you  ! 
Pope,  excommunicate,  Philip,  depose 
The  wicked  branch  of  curs'd  Valois  his  line  ! 
Vive  la  messe  I  perish  Huguenots  ! 
Thus  Caesar  did  go  forth,  and  thus  he  died.  \pies. 


1  Dyce  conjectures  that  Guise  must  have  seen  himself  in  a  mirror  as 
he  uttered  these  words. 


288  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  xxi. 

Enter  the  Captain  of  the  Guard. 

Cap.  What,  have  you  done  ? 
Then  stay  a  while,  and  I'll  go  call  the  king. 
But  see,  where  he  comes.  90 

Enter  King  Henry,  Epernoun,  and  Attendants. 

My  lord,  see,  where  the  Guise  is  slain. 

Henry.  Ah,  this  sweet  sight  is  physic  to  my  soul ! 
Go  fetch  his  son  for  to  behold  his  death. — 

\Exit  an  Attendant. 
Surcharg'd  with  guilt  of  thousand  massacres. 
Monsieur  of  Lorraine,  sink  away  to  hell ! 
And,  in  remembrance  of  those  bloody  broils, 
To  which  thou  didst  allure  me,  being  alive, 
And  here,  in  presence  of  you  all,  I  swear, 
I  ne'er  was  king  of  France  until  this  hour. 
This  is  the  traitor  that  hath  spent  my  gold  100 

In  making  foreign  wars  and  civil  broils. 
Did  he  not  draw  a  sort  ^  of  English  priests 
From  Douay  to  the  seminary  at  Rheims, 
To  hatch  forth  treason  'gainst  their  natural  queen  ? 
Did  he  not  cause  the  king  of  Spain's  huge  fleet 
To  threaten  England,  and  to  menace  me  ? 
Did  he  not  injure  Monsieur  that's  deceas'd? 
Hath  he  not  made  me,  in  the  Pope's  defence. 
To  spend  the  treasure,  that  should  strength  my  land, 
In  civil  broils  between  Navarre  and  me?  no 


1  Set. 


SCENE  XXI.]      The  Massacre  at  Paris.  289 

Tush,  to  be  short,  he  meant  to  make  me  monk, 
Or  else  to  murder  me,  and  so  be  king. 
Let  Christian  princes,  that  shall  hear  of  this 
(As  all  the  world  shall  know  our  Guise  is  dead), 
Rest  satisfied  with  this,  that  here  I  swear, 
Ne'er  was  there  king  of  France  so  yoked  as  I. 
Eper.  My  lord,  here  is  his  son. 

Enter  Guise's  Son. 

Henry.  Boy,  look  where  your  father  lies. 
G.^s  Son.   My  father  slain  !  who  hath  done  this  deed  ? 
Henry.  Sirrah,  'twas  I  that  slew  him  ;  and  will  slay  120 
Thee  too,  an  thou  prove  such  a  traitor. 

G.'s  Son.  Art  thou  king,  and  hast  done  this  bloody 
deed  ? 
I'll  be  reveng'd.  \Offers  to  throw  his  dagger. 

Henry.  Away  to  prison  with  him  !  I'll  clip  his  wings 
Or  e'er  he  pass  my  hands.     Away  with  him  ! 

\Some  of  the  Attendants  bear  <?^  Guise's  Son. 
But  what  availeth  that  this  traitor's  dead. 
When  Duke  Dumaine,  his  brother,  is  alive. 
And  that  young  cardinal  that  is  grown  so  proud  ? 
Go  to  the  governor  of  Orleans, 

And  will^  him,  in  my  name,  to  kill  the  duke.  130 

\To  the  Captain  of  the  Guard. 
Get  you  away,  and  strangle  the  cardinal. 

\To  the  Murderers. 
\Excunt  Captain  of  the  Guard  and  Murderers. 

1  Order. 
VOL.   II.  T 


290  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  xxi. 

These  two  will  make  one  entire  Duke  of  Guise, 
Especially  with  our  old  mother's  help. 

Eper.   My  lord,  see,  where  she  comes,  as  if  she  droop'd 
To  hear  these  news. 

Henry.  And  let  her  droop  ;  my  heart  is  light  enough. 

Enter  Catherine  the  Queen- Mother. 

Mother,  how  like  you  this  device  of  mine  ? 
I  slew  the  Guise,  because  I  would  be  king. 

Cath.  King  !  why,  so  thou  wert  before  : 
Pray  God  thou  be  a  king  now  this  is  done  !  140 

Henry.  Nay,  he  was  king,  and  countermanded  me  : 
But  now  I  will  be  king,  and  rule  myself. 
And  make  the  Guisians  stoop  that  are  alive. 

Cath.   I  cannot  speak  for  grief. — When  thou  wast  born, 
I  would  that  I  had  murdered  thee,  my  son  ! 
My  son  ?  thou  art  a  changeling,  not  my  son  : 
I  curse  thee,  and  exclaim  thee  miscreant, 
Traitor  to  God  and  to  the  realm  of  France  ! 

Henry.  Cry  out,  exclaim,  howl  till  thy  throat  be  hoarse ! 
The  Guise  is  slain,  and  I  rejoice  therefore  :  150 

And  now  will  I  to  arms. — Come,  Epernoun, 
And  let  her  grieve  her  heart  out,  if  she  will. 

\Exit  with  Epernoun. 

Cath.  Away  !  leave  me  alone  to  meditate. 

\Exeunt  Attendants. 
Sweet  Guise,  would  he  had  died,  so  tlTou  wert  here  ! 
To  whom  shall  I  bewray  my  secrets  now, 
Or  who  will  help  to  build  religion  ? 
The  Protestants  will  glory  and  insult  ; 


SCENE  XXII.]     The  Massacre  at  Paris.  291 

Wicked  Navarre  will  get  the  crown  of  France  ; 

The  Popedom  cannot  stand  ;  all  goes  to  wreck ; 

And  all  for  thee,  my  Guise  !     What  may  I  do  ?  160 

But  sorrow  seize  upon  my  toiling  soul ! 

For,  since  the  Guise  is  dead,  I  will  not  live.  \Exit. 

SCENE  XXII. 

Enter'^  two  Murderers,  dragging  in  the  Cardinal. 

Card.  Murder  me  not  \  I  am  a  cardinal. 

First  Murd.  Wert  thou  the  Pope  thou   might'st   not 

scape  from  us. 
Card.  What,  will  you  file  your  hands  with  churchmen's 

blood  ? 
Sec.  Murd.  Shed  your  blood  !     O  Lord,  no  !  for  we 
intend  to  strangle  you. 

Card.  Then  there  is  no  remedy,  but  I  must  die  ? 
First  Murd.  No  remedy  ;  therefore  prepare  yourself. 
Card.  Yet  lives  my  brother  Duke  Dumaine,  and  many 
mo. 
To  revenge  our  deaths  upon  that  cursed  king ; 
Upon  whose  heart  may  all  the  Furies  gripe,  10 

And  with  their  paws  drench  his  black  soul  in  hell ! 
First  Murd.  Yours,  my  Lord    Cardinal,    you    should 
have  said. —  \They  strangle  him. 

So,  pluck  amain  : 

He  is  hard-hearted  ;  therefore  pull  with  violence. 
Come,  take  him  away.  \Exeunt  with  the  body. 

1  Scene  :  the  interior  of  a  prison  at  Blois. 


292  The  Massacre  at  Paris,     [scene  xxm. 

SCENE  XXIII. 
Enter  ^  Dumaine,  reading  a  letter;  zvith  others. 

Dum.  My  noble  brother  murder'd  by  the  king ! 
O,  what  may  I  do  for  to  revenge  thy  death  ? 
The  king's  alone,  it  cannot  satisfy. 
Sweet  Duke  of  Guise,  our  prop  to  lean  upon, 
Now  thou  art  dead,  here  is  no  stay  for  us. 
I  am  thy  brother,  and  I'll  revenge  thy  death. 
And  root  Valois  his  line  from  forth  of  France  ; 
And  beat  proud  Bourbon  to  his  native  home, 
That  basely  seeks  to  join  with  such  a  king. 
Whose  murderous  thoughts  will  be  his  overthrow.  lo 

He  will'd  the  governor  of  Orleans,  in  his  name, 
That  I  with  speed  should  have  been  put  to  death  ; 
But  that's  prevented,  for  to  end  his  life, 
And  2  all  those  traitors  to  the  Church  of  Rome 
That  durst  attempt  to  murder  noble  Guise. 

Enter  Friar, 

Fri.  My  lord,  I  come  to  bring  you  news  that  your 
brother  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  by  the  king's  consent, 
is  lately  strangled  unto  death. 

Dutn.  My  brother  Cardinal  slain,  and  I  alive  ! 
O  words  of  power  to  kill  a  thousand  men  ! —  20 

Come,  let  us  away,  and  levy  men ; 
'Tis  war  that  must  assuage  this  tyrant's  pride. 

1  Scene  :  a  room  in  Dumaine's  house,  at  Paris. 
3  Old  ed.  "  His  life  and  all,"  &c. 


SCENE  XXIV.]    The  Massacre  at  Paris.  293 

Fri.  My  lord,  hear  me  but  speak. 
I  am  a  friar  of  the  order  of  the  Jacobins, 
That  for  my  conscience'  sake  will  kill  the  king. 

Du7n.  But  what  doth  move  thee,  above  the  rest,  to  do 
the  deed  ? 

Fri.  O  my  lord,  I  have  been  a  great  sinner  in  my 
days  !  and  the  deed  is  meritorious. 

Dum.  But  how  wilt  thou  get  opportunity  ?  3" 

Fri.  Tush,  my  lord,  let  me  alone  for  that. 

Dum.  Friar,  come  with  me ; 
We  will  go  talk  more  of  this  within.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  XXIV. 

Drums  and  Trumpets.  Efiter  ^  King  Henry,  the  King 
OF  Navarre,  Epernoun,  Bartus,  Pleshi^,  Soldiers, 
and  Attendants. 

Hemy.  Brother  of  Navarre,  I  sorrow  much 
That  ever  I  was  prov'd  your  enemy. 
And  that  the  sweet  and  princely  mind  you  bear 
Was  ever  troubled  with  injurious  wars. 
I  vow,  as  I  am  lawful  king  of  France, 
To  recompense  your  reconciled  love, 
With  all  the  honours  and  affections 
That  ever  I  vouchsafed  my  dearest  friends. 

Nav.  It  is  enough  if  that  Navarre  may  be 
Esteemed  faithful  to  the  king  of  France,  10 

Whose  service  he  may  still  command  till  death. 

1  Scene :  Saint-Cloud. 


294  ^''^^  Massacre  at  Paris,   [scene  xxiv. 

Henry.  Thanks  to  my  kingly  brother  of  Navarre. 
Then  here  we'll  lie  before  Lutetia-walls,^ 
Girting  this  strumpet  city  with  our  siege, 
Till,  surfeiting  with  our  afflicting  arms, 
She  cast  her  hateful  stomach  to  the  earth. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  An  it  please  your  majesty,  here  is  a  friar  of  the 
order  of  the  Jacobins,  sent  from  the  President  of  Paris, 
that  craves  access  unto  your  grace. 

Henry.  Let  him  come  in.  \Exit  Mess,    20 

Enter  Friar,  with  a  letter. 

Eper.   I  like  not  this  friai's  look  : 
'Twere  not  amiss,  my  lord,  if  he  were  search'd. 

Henry.  Sweet  Epernoun,  our  friars  are  holy  men. 
And  will  not  offer  violence  to  their  king 
For  all  the  wealth  and  treasure  of  the  world. — 
Friar,  thou  dost  acknowledge  me  thy  king  ? 

Fri.  Ay,  my  good  lord,  and  will  die  therein. 

Henry.  Then  come  thou  near,    and    tell  what    news 
thou  bring'st. 

Fri.  My  lord, 
The  President  of  Paris  greets  your  grace,  3° 

And  sends  his  duty  by  these  speedy  lines, 
Humbly  craving  your  gracious  reply.  \Gives  letter. 

^  Old  ed.  "  Lucrecia  walles." 


SCENE  XXIV.]    The  Massan'e  at  Paris.  295 

Henry.  I'll    read    them,   friar,  and    then    I'll   answer 

thee. 
Fri.  Sande  Jacobe}  now  have  mercy  upon  me  ! 

\Stabs  the  king  with  a  knife,  as  he  reads  the 
letter;  and  then  the  king  gets  the  knife, 
and  kills  him. 
Eper.  O  my  lord,  let  him  live  a  while  ! 
Henry.  No,  let  the  villain  die,  and  feel  in  hell 
Just  torments  for  his  treachery. 

Nav.  What,  is  your  highness  hurt? 
Henry.  Yes,  Navarre;  but  not  to  death,  I  hope. 
Nav.  God    shield  your   grace   from    such   a   sudden 
death  ! —  40 

Go  call  a  surgeon  hither  straight.       [Exit  an  Attendant. 

Henry.  What  irreligious  pagans'  parts  be  these. 
Of  such  as  hold  them  of  the  holy  church  ! 
Take  hence  that  damned  villain  from  my  sight. 

[Attendants  carry  out  the  Friar's  body. 
Eper.  Ah,  had  your  highness  let  him  live, 
We  might  have  punish'd  him  to  his  deserts  ! 

Henry.  Sweet  Epernoun,  all  rebels  under  heaven 
Shall  take  example  by  his  -  punishment, 
How  they  bear  arms  against  their  sovereign. — 
Go  call  the  English  agent  hither  straight  :  50 

\Exit  an  Attendant. 
I'll  send  my  sister  England  news  of  this, 
And  give  her  warning  of  her  treacherous  foes. 


1  Old  ed.  "Jacobus."  *  Old  ed.  "their. 


296  The  Massacre  at  Paris,  [scene  xxiv. 

Enter  a  Surgeon. 

Nav.  Pleaseth  your  grace  to  let  the  surgeon  search 

your  wound  ? 
Henry.  The  wound,  I  warrant  ye,  is  deep,  my  lord. — 
Search,  surgeon,  and  resolve  me  what  thou  see'st. 

\The  Surgeon  searches  the  wound. 

Enter  the  English  Agent. 

Agent  for  England,  send  thy  mistress  word 
What  this  detested  Jacobin  hath  done. 
Tell  her,  for  all  this,  that  I  hope  to  live  ; 
Which  if  I  do,  the  papal  monarch  goes 
To  wreck,  and  antichristian  kingdom  falls  :  60 

These  bloody  hands  shall  tear  his  triple  crown. 
And  fire  accursed  Rome  about  his  ears  ; 
I'll  fire  his  crazed  buildings,  and  enforce 
The  papal  towers  to  kiss  the  lowly  ^  earth. 
Navarre,  give  me  thy  hand  :  I  here  do  swear 
To  ruinate  that  wicked  Church  of  Rome, 
That  hatcheth  up  such  bloody  practices  ; 
And  here  protest  eternal  love  to  thee, 
And  to  the  Queen  of  England  specially. 
Whom  God  hath  bless'd  for  hating  papistry.  70 

Nav.  These  words  revive  my  thoughts,  and  comfort  me. 
To  see  your  highness  in  this  virtuous  mind. 


1  Dyce's  correction  for  "incense  ...  to  kiss  the  Ao/y  earth."     He 
compares  Edward  II.  (I.  4,  11.  100,  loi)  : — 

"I'll  fire  thy  crazM  buildings,  and  enforce 
The  papal  towers  to  kiss  the  lowly  ground." 


SCENE  xxiv.j    The  Massacre  at  Paris.  297 

Henry.  Teii  me,  surgeon,  shall  I  live? 

Surg.  Alas,  my  lord,  the  wound  is  dangerous, 
For  you  are  stricken  with  a  poison'd  knife  ! 

Henry.  A  poison'd  knife  !  what,  shall  the  French  king 
die, 
Wounded  and  poison'd  both  at  once  ? 

Eper.  O,  that 
That  damned  villain  were  alive  again, 
That  we  might  torture  him  with  some  new-found  death  \ 

Bar.  He  died  a  death  too  good  :  80 

The  devil  of  hell  torture  his  wicked  soul ! 

Henry.  Ah,  curse  him  not.  sith  he  is  dead  ! — 
O,  the  fatal  poison  works  within  my  breast ! — 
Tell  me,  surgeon,  and  flatter  not — may  I  live  ? 

Sicrg.  Alas,  my  lord,  your  highness  cannot  live  ! 

J\^av.  Surgeon,  why  say'st  thou  so  ?  the  king  may  live. 

Henry.  O  no,  Navarre  !  thou  must  be  king  of  France. 

Nav.  Long  may  you  live,  and  still  be  king  of  France  ! 

Eper.  Or  else,  die  Epernoun  !  89 

Henry.  Sweet  Epernoun,  thy  king  must  die. — My  lords, 
Fight  in  the  quarrel  of  this  valiant  prince, 
For  he's  your  lawful  king,  and  my  next  heir; 
Valois's  line  ends  in  my  tragedy. 
Now  let  the  house  of  Bourbon  wear  the  crown ; 
And  may  it  ne'er  end  in  blood  as  mine  hath  done  ! — 
Weep  not,  sweet  Navarre,  but  revenge  my  death. — 
Ah,  Epernoun,  is  this  thy  love  to  me  ? 
Henry,  thy  king,  wipes  off  these  childish  tears. 
And  bids  thee  whet  thy  sword  on  Sixtus'  bones. 
That  it  may  keenly  slice  the  Catholics.  100 


298  The  Massacre  at  Pai'is,    [scene  xxiv. 

He  loves  me  not  [the  most^]  that  sheds  most  tears, 

But  he  that  makes  most  lavish  of  his  blood. 

Fire  Paris,  where  these  treacherous  rebels  lurk. — 

I  die,  Navarre  :  come  bear  me  to  my  sepulchre. 

Salute  the  Queen  of  England  in  my  name, 

And  tell  her  Henry  dies  her  faithful  friend.  S^Dies. 

Nav.  Come,  lords,  take  up  the  body  of  the  king, 
That  we  may  see  it  honourably  interr'd  : 
And  then  I  vow  so  ^  to  revenge  his  death, 
As  Rome,  and  all  those  popish  prelates  there,  no 

Shall  curse  the  time  that  e'er  Navarre  was  king. 
And  ruled  in  France  by  Henry's  fatal  death. 

\They  march  out,  with  the  body  ^King  Henry 
lying  on  four  metis  shoulders,  with  a  dead 
march,  drawing  weapons  o?i  the  ground. 

1  The  bracketed  words  were  inserted  by  Dyce. 
-  Dyce's  correction  for  the  old  copy's  '  for.  " 


THE    TRAGEDY 


OF 


DIDO,  QUEEN  OF  CARTHAGE. 


Dido  was  published  in  1594,  with  the  following  title  : — 

The  Tragedie  of  Dido  Queen e  of  Carthage :  Flayed  by  the  Children 

of  her  Maiesties  Chappell.      Written  by  Christopher  Marlowe,  and 

Thomas  Nash,  Gent. 


Actors. 


Jupiter. 
Ganimed. 

Venus. 
Cupid. 
Juno. 
Mercurie,  or 

Hermes. 
Aineas. 

At  London,  Printed,  by 
cocke,  and  are  to  be  sold  at 
signe  of  the  blacke  Beare. 

A  copy  of  this  edition 
indebted  to  my  friend  Mr. 
text  with  the  text  of  the  B 


Ascanitis. 

Dido. 

Anna. 

Achates. 

Ilioneus. 

larbas. 

Cloanthes. 

Sergestus. 

the  Widdoive  Onvin,  for  Thomas  JVood- 
his  shop,  in  Panics  Churchyeard,  at  the 
1594.     0^0. 

is  in  the  Bodleian  I^ibrary  ;  and  I  am 
C.  H.  Firth  for  kindly  comparing  Dyce's 
odleian  copy. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 

Jupiter. 
Ganymede. 
Hermes. 
Cupid. 

Juno. 

Venus. 

.(Eneas. 

AscANius,  his  son. 
Achates. 
Ilioneus. 
Cloanthus. 
Sergestus. 
Other  Trojans, 
Iarbas. 
Carthaginian  Lords. 

Dido. 

Anna,  her  sister. 

Nurse. 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

DIDO,  QUEEN  OF  CARTHAGE. 

ACT  I. 

SCENE  I. 

Here  the  curtains  draw :  there  is  discovered  Jupiter 
dandling  Ganymede  upon  his  knee,  and  Hermes 
lying  asleep. 

/up.  Come,  gentle  Ganymede,  and  play  with  me  ; 
I  love  thee  well,  say  Juno  what  she  will. 

Gafi.  I  am  much  better  for  your  worthless  love, 
That  will  not  shield  me  from  her  shrewish  blows  ! 
To-day,  whenas  I  filled  into  your  cups, 
And  held  the  cloth  of  pleasance  whiles  you  drank, 
She  reached  me  such  a  rap  for  that  I  spilled, 
As  made  the  blood  run  down  about  mine  ears. 

Jup.  What?  dares  she  strike  the  darling  of  my  thoughts? 
By  Saturn's  soul,  and  this  earth-threatening  hair,^  lo 

That,  shaken  thrice,  makes  nature's  buildings  quake, 
I  vow,  if  she  but  once  frown  on  thee  more, 

1  Old  ed.  "  aire," 


304  The  Tragedy  of  [act  i. 

To  hang  her,  meteor-like,  'twixt  heaven  and  earth, 
And  bind  her,  hand  and  foot,  with  golden  cords. 
As  once  I  did  for  harming  Hercules  ! 

Gan.  Might  I  but  see  that  pretty  sport  a-foot, 
O,  how  would  I  with  Helen's  brother  laugh, 
And  bring  the  gods  to  wonder  at  the  game  ! 
Sweet  Jupiter,  if  e'er  I  pleased  thine  eye, 
Or  seemed  fair,  wall'd-in  with  eagle's  wings, ^  20 

Grace  my  immortal  beauty  with  this  boon, 
And  I  will  spend  my  time  in  thy  bright  arms. 

Jup.  What  is't,  sweet  wag,  I  should  deny  thy  youth  ? 
Whose  face  reflects  such  pleasure  to  mine  eyes, 
As  I,  exhaled  with  thy  fire-darting  beams, 
Have  oft  driven  back  the  horses  of  the  Night, 
Whenas  they  would  have  haled  thee  from  my  sight. 
Sit  on  my  knee,  and  call  for  thy  content, 
Control  proud  Fate,  and  cut  the  thread  of  Time  : 
Why,  are  not  all  the  gods  at  thy  command,  30 

And  heaven  and  earth  the  bounds  of  thy  delight  ? 
Vulcan-  shall  dance  to  make  thee  laughing-sport, 

1  ' '  This  expression  is  well  illustrated  by  Titian's  [?]  picture  (in  the 
National  Gallery)  of  the  rape  of  Ganymede. — In  Shakespeare's  Love  s 
Labour^s  Lost,  act  v.  sc.  2,  we  have, — 

'  A  lady  walVd-about  with  diamonds  ! '  " — Dyce. 

2  This  speech  is  undoubtedly  by  Marlowe,  but  it  is  curious  that  Nashe, 
in  Summer  s  Last  Will  and  Testament,  speaks  of  the  amusement  caused 
among  the  gods  by  the  sight  of  Vulcan's  dancing: — "To  make  the 
gods  merry  the  celestial  clown  Vulcan  tuned  his  poll  foot  to  the  measures 
of  Apollo's  lute,  and  danced  a  limping  galliard  in  Jove's  starry  hall  " 
(Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  viii.  91).  In  both  passages  there  is  perhaps  an 
allusion  to  the  lines  in  the  first  book  of  the  Iliad  (599-600),  describing 
how  "unquenchable  laughter  rose  among  the  blessed  gods  wlien  they 
saw  Hsphaestus  bustling  through  the  hall." 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  305 

And  my  nine  daughters  sing  when  thou  art  sad  ; 
From  Juno's  bird  I'll  pluck  her  spotted  pride, 
Tojnake  thee  fans  wherewith  to  cool  thy  face  ; 
And  Venus'  swans  shall  shed  their  silver  down, 
To  sweeten  out  the  slumbers  of  thy  bed  \ 
Hermes  no  more  shall  show  the  world  his  wings, 
If  that  thy  fancy  in  his  feathers  dwell, 
But,  as  this  one,  I'll  tear  them  all  from  him,  40 

\Plucks  a  feather  from  Hermes'  wings. 
Do  thou  but  say,  "  their  colour  pleaseth  me." 
Hold  here,  my  little  love ;  these  linked  gems, 

[^Gives  jeivels. 
My  Juno  ware  upon  her  marriage-day, 
Put  thou  about  thy  neck,  my  own  sweet  heart. 
And  trick  thy  arms  and  shoulders  with  my  theft. 

Gan.  I  would  have  a  jewel  for  mine  ear, 
And  a  fine  brooch  to  put  in[to]  my  hat, 
And  then  I'll  hug  with  you  an  hundred  times. 
Jiip.  And  shall  have,  Ganymede,  if  thou  wilt  be  my 
love. 

Enter  Venus. 

Ven.  Ay,  this  is  it :  you  can  sit  toying  there,  50 

And  playing  with  that  female  wanton  boy, 
Whiles  my  ^neas  wanders  on  the  seas. 
And  rests  a  prey  to  every  billow's  pride. 
Juno,  false  Juno,  in  her  chariot's  pomp. 
Drawn    through    the    heavens    by   steeds    of    Boreas' 

brood, 
Made  Hebe  to  direct  her  airy  wheels 

VOL.    II.  u 


3o6  The  Tragedy  of  [act  i. 

Into  the  windy  country  of  the  clouds  ; 
Where,  finding  ^olus  entrenched  with  storms, 
And  guarded  with  a  thousand  grisly  ghosts, 
She  humbly  did  beseech  him  for  our  bane,  60 

And  charged  him  drown  my  son  with  all  his  train. 
Then  gan  the  winds  break  ope  their  brazen  doors, 
And  all  ^olia  to  be  up  in  arms ; 
Poor  Troy  must  now  be  sacked  upon  the  sea. 
And  Neptune's  waves  be  envious  men  of  war ; 
Epeus'  horse,  to  Etna's  hill  transform'd, 
Prepared  stands  to  wreck  their  wooden  walls  ; 
And  tEoIus,  like  Agamemnon,  sounds 
The  surges,  his  fierce  soldiers,  to  the  spoil : 
See  how  the  night,  Ulysses-like,  comes  forth,  70 

And  intercepts  the  day,  as  Dolon  erst ! 
Ay  me  !  the  stars  supprised,^  like  Rhesus'  steeds, 
Are  drawn  by  darkness  forth  Astrseus'  tents.^ 
What  shall  I  do  to  save  thee,  my  sweet  boy? 
Whenas  the  waves  do  threat  our  crystal  world, 
And  Proteus,  raising  hills  of  floods  on  high, 
Intends,  ere  long,  to  sport  him  in  the  sky.^ 
False  Jupiter,  reward'st  thou  virtue  so  ? 
What,  is  not  piety  exempt  from  woe  ? 
Then  die,  ^neas,  in  thine  innocence,  80 

Since  that  religion  hath  no  recompense. 
Jup.  Content  thee,  Cytherea,  in  thy  care, 


1  Surprised. 

-  The  stars  were  the  children  of  Astrasus  and  Eos.     See  Hesiod, 
Theogony,  11.  381-2. 
3  These  rhyming  lines  are  suggestive  of  Nashe. 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Q2tcen  of  Carthage.  307 

Since  thy  ^Eneas'  wandering  fate  is  firm,^ 

Whose  weary  limbs  shall  shortly  make  repose 

In  those  fair  walls  \  promised  him  of  yore. 

But,  first,  in  blood  must  his  good  fortune  bud, 

Before  he  be  the  lord  of  Turnus'  town, 

Or  force  her  smile  that  hitherto  hath  frowned  : 

Three  winters  shall  he  with  the  Rutiles  war, 

And,  in  the  end,  subdue  them  with  his  sword  ;  90 

And  full  three  summers  likewise  shall  he  waste 

In  managing  those  fierce  barbarian  minds ; 

Which  once  performed,  poor  Troy,  so  long  suppressed, 

From  forth  her  ashes  shall  advance  her  head, 

And  flourish  once  again,  that  erst  was  dead. 

But  bright  Ascanius,  beauty's  better  work. 

Who  with  the  sun  divides  one  radiant  shape. 

Shall  build  his  throne  amidst  those  starry  towers 

That  earth-born  Atlas,  groaning,  underprops  : 

No  bounds,  but  heaven,  shall  bound  his  empery,  100 

Whose  azured  gates,  enchased  with  his  name, 

Shall  make  the  Morning  haste  her  grey  uprise, 

To  feed  her  eyes  with  his  engraven  fame. 

Thus,  in  stout  Hector's  race,  three  hundred  years  ^ 

The  Roman  sceptre  royal  shall  remain. 

Till  that  a  princess-priest,^  conceived  by  Mars, 

1  "  Parce  metu,  Cytherea  ;  manent  imniota  tuorum 

Fata  tibi."  Virg.  ^n,  i.  257-8. 

2  "  Hie  jam  ter  centumt  totos  regnabitur  annos 

Gente  sub  Hectorea."  Virg.  ^n.  i.  272-3. 

*  "  Donee  regina  sacerdos 

Marte  gravis  geminam  partu  dabit  Ilia  prolem." 

Virg.  ^n.  i.  273-4. 


3o8  The  Tragedy  of  [act  i. 

Shall  yield  to  dignity  a  double  birth, 
Who  will  eternish  ^  Troy  in  their  attempts. 

Veji.  How  may  I  credit  these  thy  flattering  terms, 
When  yet  both  sea  and  sands  beset  their  ships,  no 

And  Phoebus,  as  in  Stygian  pools,  refrains 
To  taint  his  tresses  in  the  Tyrrhene  main  ? 

Jiip.  I  will  take  order  for  that  presently. — 
Hermes,  awake  !  and  haste  to  Neptune's  realm. 
Whereas  the  wind-god,  warring  now  with  fate, 
Besiege[s]  th'  offspring  of  our  kingly  loins  : 
Charge  him  from  me  to  turn  his  stormy  powers. 
And  fetter  them  in  Vulcan's  sturdy  brass. 
That  durst  thus  proudly  wrong  our  kinsman's  peace. 

\Exit  Hermes. 
Venus,  farewell :  thy  son  shall  be  our  care. —  120 

Come,  Ganymede,  we  must  about  this  gear.^ 

\Exe21nt  Jupiter  a7id  Ganymede. 

Ven.^  Disquiet  seas,  lay  down  your  swelling  looks, 
And  court  ^neas  with  your  calmy  cheer. 
Whose  beauteous  burden  well  might  make  you  proud. 
Had  not  the  heavens,  conceiv'd  with  hell-born  clouds, 
Veil'd  his  resplendent  glory  from  your  view : 
For  my  sake,  pity  him,  Oceanus, 
That  erst-while  issu'd  from  thy  watery  loins, 
And  had  my  being  from  thy  bubbling  froth. 
Triton,  I  know,  hath  filled  his  trump  with  Troy,  130 

And  therefore  will  take  pity  on  his  toil, 

1  Probably  a  misspelling  of  "  eternise." 

2  Business. 

•*  The  scene  shifts  to  a  wood  near  the  sea-shore. 


SCENE  I.]       Dido,  Qtceen  of  Carthage.  309 

And  call  both  Thetis  and  Cymothoe  ^ 
To  succour  him  in  this  extremity. 

Enter  ^neas,  Ascanius,  Achates,  ajid  others. 
What  do  I  see  ?  my  son  now  come  on  shore  ? 
Venus,  how  art  thou  compassed  with  content, 
The  while  thine  eyes  attract  their  sought-for  joys  ! 
Great  Jupiter,  still  honoured  mayst  thou  be 
For  this  so  friendly  aid  in  time  of  need  ! 
Here  in  this  bush  disguised  will  I  stand, 
Whiles  my  ^neas  spends  himself  in  plaints,  140 

And  heaven  and  earth  with  his  unrest  acquaints. 

^n.  You  sons  of  care,  companions  of  my  course, 
Priam's  misfortune  follows  us  ^  by  sea, 
And  Helen's  rape  doth  haunt  us  2  at  the  heels. 
How  many  dangers  have  we  overpass'd ! 
Both  barking  Scylla,^  and  the  sounding  rocks, 
The  Cyclops'  shelves,  and  grim  Ceraunia's  seat, 
Have  you  o'ergone,  and  yet  remain  alive. 
Pluck  up  your  hearts,  since  Fate  still  rests  our  friend, 
And  changing  heavens  may  those  good  days  return,    150 
Which  Pergama  did  vaunt  in  all  her  pride. 

Ach.  Brave  prince  of  Troy,  thou  only  art  our  god, 
That  by  thy  virtues  free'st  us  from  annoy, 
And  makes  our  hopes  survive  to  coming*  joys  : 

1  Old  ed.  "  Cimodooe." — Cf.  Virgil,  Ain,  i.  144. 

2  Olded.  "thee." 

3  ' '  Vos  et  Scyllaeam  rabiem  penitusque  sonantes 

Accestis  scopulos,  vos  et  Cyclopia  saxa 
Experti :  revocate  animos,  maestumque  timorem  Mittite. " 
— Virgil,  y£«.  i.  200-203. 
*  Olded.  "cunning." 


3  I  o  The  Tragedy  of  [act  i. 

Do  thou  but  smile,  and  cloudy  heaven  will  clear, 
Whose  night  and  day  descendeth  from  thy  brows. 
Though  we  be  now  in  extreme  misery, 
And  rest  the  map  of  weather-beaten  woe,^ 
Yet  shall  the  aged  sun  shed  forth  his  hair,^ 
To  make  us  live  unto  our  former  heat,  i6o 

And  every  beast  the  forest  doth  send  forth 
Bequeath  her  young  ones  to  our  scanted  food. 

Asc.  Father,  I  faint ;  good  father,  give  me  meat. 

^n.  Alas  !  sweet  boy,  thou  must  be  still  a  while, 
Till  we  have  fire  to  dress  the  meat  we  killed  ! 
Gentle  Achates,  reach  the  tinder-box. 
That  we  may  make  a  fire  to  warm  us  with. 
And  roast  our  new-found  victuals  on  this  shore. 

Vc7i.  See,  what  strange  arts  necessity  finds  out ! 
How  near,  my  sweet  yEneas,  art  thou  driven  !       \Aside. 

yEn.  Hold  ;  take  this  candle,  and  go  light  a  fire  ;  171 
You  shall  have  leaves  and  windfall  boughs  enow, 
Near  to  these  woods,  to  roast  your  meat  withal. — 
Ascanius,  go  and  dry  thy  drenched  limbs. 
Whiles  I  with  my  Achates  rove  abroad, 
To  know  what  coast  the  wind  hath  driven  us  on, 
Or  whether  men  or  beasts  inhabit  it. 

\Exe2mt  Ascanius  and  others. 

Ach.  The  air  is  pleasant,  and  the  soil  most  fit 
For  cities  and  society's  supports  ; 


1  Cf.   Titus  Andronicus,  iii.  2  (a  great  part  of  which  I  attribute  to 
Marlowe) : — 

"Thou  viap  of  woe  that  thus  dost  tallc  in  signs"  {1.  12). 

2  Old  ed.  "aire." 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  311 

Yet  much  I  marvel  that  I  cannot  find  180 

No  steps  of  men  imprinted  in  the  earth. 

Veil.  Now  is  the  time  for  me  to  play  my  part. — 

{^Aside. 
Ho,  young  men  !  saw  you,  as  you  came,^ 
Any  of  all  my  sisters  wandering  here, 
Having  a  quiver  girded  to  her  side, 
And  clothed  in  a  spotted  leopard's  skin  ? 

yE?i.  I  neither  saw  nor  heard  of  any  such. 
But  what  may  I,  fair  virgin,  call  your  name, 
Whose  looks  set  forth  no  mortal  form  to  view, 
Nor  speech  bewrays  aught  human  in  thy  birth  ?  ,         190 
Thou  art  a  goddess  that  delud'st  our  eyes. 
And  shrouds  thy  beauty  in  this  borrowed  shape  ; 
But  whether  thou  the  Sun's  bright  sister  be, 
Or  one  of  chaste  Diana's  fellow-nymphs, 
Live  happy  in  the  height  of  all  content, 
And  lighten  our  extremes  with  this  one  boon, 
As  to  instruct  us  under  what  good  heaven 
We  breathe  as  now,  and  what  this  world  is  called 
On  which  by  tempests'  fury  we  are  cast : 
Tell  us,  O,  tell  us,  that  are  ignorant !  200 

And  this  right  hand  shall  make  thy  altars  crack 
With  mountain-heaps  of  milk-white  sacrifice. 

Ven.  Such  honour,  stranger,  do  I  not  affect : 
It  is  the  use  for  Tyrian  2  maids  to  wear 
Their  bow  and  quiver  in  this  modest  sort, 

1  From  this  point  to  the  end  of  the  scene  Marlowe  follows  Virgil  very 
closely. — Cf.  ^n.  i.  321-410. 

2  Old  ed.  "  Turen." 


3 1 2  The  Tragedy  of  [act  i. 

And  suit  themselves  in  purple  for  the  nonce, 

That  they  may  trip  more  lightly  o'er  the  lawnds/ 

And  overtake  the  tusked  boar  in  chase. 

But  for  the  land  whereof  thou  dost  inquire, 

It  is  the  Punic  kingdom,  rich  and  strong,  210 

Adjoining  on  Agenor's  stately  town, 

The  kingly  seat  of  Southern  Libya, 

Whereas  Sidonian  Dido  rules  as  queen. 

But  what  are  you  that  ask  of  me  these  things  ? 

Whence  may  you  come,  or  whither  will  you  go  ? 
jEn.  Of  Troy  am  I,  ^neas  is  my  name ; 

Who,  driven  by  war  from  forth  my  native  world. 
Put  sails  to  sea  to  seek  out  Italy; 
And  my  divine  descent  from  sceptred  Jove  : 
With  twice  twelve  Phrygian  ships  I  plough'd  the  deep,  220 
And  made  that  way  my  mother  Venus  led ; 
But  of  them  all  scarce  seven  do  anchor  safe, 
And  they  so  wrecked  and  weltered  by  the  waves. 
As  every  tide  tilts  'twixt  their  oaken  sides  \ 
And  all  of  them,  unburdened  of  their  load. 
Are  ballassed  with  billows'  watery  weight. 
But  hapless  I,  God  wot,  poor  and  unknown, 
Do  trace  these  Libyan  deserts,  all  despised, 
Exiled  forth  Europe  and  wide  Asia  both, 
And  have  not  any  coverture  but  heaven.  230 

Ven.  Fortune  hath  favour'd  thee,  whate'er  thou  be, 

1  Greene  (in  Orlando  Furioso)  uses  the  same  form  : — 
"Thou  see'st  that  Medor  and  Angelica 
Are  still  so  secret  in  their  private  walks, 
As  that  they  trace  the  shady  lawnds." 


SCENE  II.]     Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  3 1 3 

In  sending  thee  unto  this  courteous  coast. 
A'  God's  name,  on  !  and  haste  thee  to  the  court, 
Where  Dido  will  receive  ye  with  her  smiles  ; 
And  for  thy  ships,  which  thou  supposest  lost, 
Not  one  of  them  hath  perish'd  in  the  storm, 
But  are  arrived  safe,  not  far  from  hence  : 
And  so  I  leave  thee  to  thy  fortune's  lot, 
Wishing  good  luck  unto  thy  wandering  steps.  \Exit. 

^n.  Achates,  'tis  my  mother  that  is  fled  ;  210 

I  know  her  by  the  movings  of  her  feet. — 
Stay,  gentle  Venus,  fly  not  from  thy  son  ! 
Too  cruel,  why  wilt  thou  forsake  me  thus. 
Or  in  these  shades  ^  deceiv'st  mine  eyes  so  oft  ? 
Why  talk  we  not  together  hand  in  hand. 
And  tell  our  griefs  in  more  familiar  terms  ? 
But  thou  art  gone,  and  leav'st  me  here  alone. 
To  dull  the  air  with  my  discoursive  moan. 


SCENE  II. 

Enter  2  I  areas,  followed  by  Ilioneus,  Cloanthus,^ 
Sergestus,  and  others. 

IH.  Follow,  ye  Trojans,  follow  this  brave  lord, 
And  plain  to  him  the  sum  of  your  distress. 

Jar,  Why,  what  are  you,  or  wherefore  do  you  sue  ? 

1  "  Quid  natum  totiens,  crudelis  tu  quoque,  falsis 

Ludis  imaginibus?"  Virg.  j^n.  i.  407-8. 

2  Scene :  Carthage. 

3  Olded.  "Cloanthes." 


3  1 4  The  Tragedy  of  [act  i. 

///.  Wretches  ^  of  Troy,  envied^of  the  winds, 
That  crave  such  favour  at  your  honour's  feet 
As  poor  distressed  misery  may  plead  : 
Save,  save,  O,  save  our  ships  from  cruel  fire, 
That  do  complain  the  wounds  of  thousand  waves, 
And  spare  our  lives,  whom  every  spite  pursues  ! 
We  come  not,  we,  to  wrong  your  Libyan  gods,  lo 

Or  steal  your  household  Lares  from  their  shrines  ; 
Our  hands  are  not  prepared  to  lawless  spoil, 
Nor  armed  to  offend  in  any  kind ; 
Such  force  is  far  from  our  unweapon'd  thoughts 
Whose  fading  weal,  of  victory  forsook. 
Forbids  all  hope  to  harbour  near  our  hearts. 

lar.   But  tell  me,  Trojans,  Trojans  if  you  be. 
Unto  what  fruitful  quarters  were  ye  bound, 
Before  that  Boreas  buckled  with  -  your  sails  ? 

Clo.  There  is  a  place,  Hesperia  termed  by  us,  20 

An  ancient  empire,  famoused  for  arms. 
And  fertile  in  fair  Ceres'  furrowed  wealth, 
Which  now  we  call  Italia,  of  his  name 
That  in  such  peace  long  time  did  rule  the  same. 
Thither  made  we  ; 

When,  suddenly,  gloomy  Orion  rose. 
And  led  our  ships  into  the  shallow  sands. 
Whereas  the  southern  wind  with  brackish  breath 
Dispersed  them  all  amongst  the  wreckful  rocks  : 


'  For  what  follows  cf.  Virg.  ^n.  i.  524-78. 

2  The  expression  "buckle  with"  occurs  twice  in  i  Henry  VI.,  and 
once  in  3  Henry  VI.  :  nowhere  in  Shakespeare's  undoubted  plays. 


SCENE  II.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  315 

From  thence  a  few  of  us  escaped  to  land  ;  3° 

The  rest,  we  fear,  are  folded  in  the  floods. 

lar.  Brave  men-at-arms,  abandon  fruitless  fears, 
Since  Carthage  knows  to  entertain  distress. 

Serg.  Ay,  but  the  barbarous  sort  do  threat  our  ships. 
And  will  not  let  us  lodge  upon  the  sands  ; 
In  multitudes  they  swarm  unto  the  shore, 
And  from  the  first  earth  interdict  our  feet. 

lar.  Myself  will  see  they  shall  not  trouble  ye  : 
Your  men  and  you  shall  banquet  in  our  court, 
And  every  Trojan  be  as  welcome  here  40 

As  Jupiter  to  silly  Baucis'  ^  house. 
Come  in  with  me ;  I'll  bring  ye  to  my  queen. 
Who  shall  confirm  my  words  with  further  deeds, 

Serg.  Thanks,  gentle  lord,  for  such  unlook'd-for  grace  : 
Might  we  but  once  more  see  Eneas'  face. 
Then  would  we  hope  to  quite  such  friendly  turns. 
As  shall  -  surpass  the  wonder  of  our  speech. 

\Exeunt. 

1  Old  ed,  "  Vausis." 

-  Dyce  proposes  "  all  "  for  "  shall."     Retaining  "shall"  the  sense  is 
"  we  would  hope  to  requite  your  kindness  in  such  a  way  as  shall,"  &c. 


3i6 


ACT  II. 

SCENE    I. 

Enter'^  ^neas,  Achates,  Ascanius,  and  others. 

yEn.  Where  am  I  now?  these  should  be  Carthage-walls. 

Ach.  Why  stands  my  sweet  ^neas  thus  amaz'd  ? 

^n.  O  my  Achates,  Theban  Niobe, 
Who  for  her  sons'  death  wept  out  life  and  breath, 
And,  dry  with  grief,  was  turned  into  a  stone, 
Had  not  such  passions  in  her  head  as  I  ! 
Methinks, 

That  town  there  should  be  Troy,  yon  Ida's  hill. 
There  Xanthus'  stream,  because  here's  Priamus  ; 
And  when  I  know  it  is  not,  then  I  die.  lo 

Ach.  And  in  this  humour  is  Achates  too  ; 
I  cannot  choose  but  fall  upon  my  knees, 
And  kiss  his  hand.     O,  where  is  Hecuba? 
Here  she  was  wont  to  sit ;  but,  saving  air, 
Is  nothing  here  ;  and  what  is  this  but  stone  ?" 

^n.  O,  yet  this  stone  doth  make  ^neas  weep  ! 
And  would  my  prayers  (as  Pygmalion's  did) 
Could  give  it  life,  that  under  his  cond^ict 

1  Scene  :  Juno's  temple  at  Carthage. 

2  Virgil  represents  the  tale  of  Troy  depicted  on  a  fresco  in  Juno's 
temple. 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  3 1 7 

We  might  sail  back  to  Troy,  and  be  revenged 

On  these  hard-hearted  Grecians  which  rejoice  20 

That  nothing  now  is  left  of  Priamus  ! 

O,  Priamus  is  left,  and  this  is  he ! 

Come,  come  aboard ;  pursue  the  hateful  Greeks. 

Ach.  What  means  ^neas  ? 

^n.  Achates,  though  mine  eyes  say  this  is  stone, 
Yet  thinks  my  mind  that  this  is  Priamus ; 
And  when  my  grieved  heart  sighs  and  says  no, 
Then  would  it  leap  out  to  give  Priam  life. — 
O,  were  I  not  at  all,  so  thou  mightst  be  ; — 
Achates,  see.  King  Priam  wags  his  hand  !  30 

He  is  alive ;  Troy  is  not  overcome  ! 

Ach.  Thy  mind,  ^neas,  that  would  have  it  so, 
Deludes  thy  eye-sight ;  Priamus  is  dead. 

yEn.  Ah,  Troy  is  sack'd,  and  Priamus  is  dead  ! 
And  why  should  poor  ^neas  be  alive? 

Asc.  Sweet  father,  leave  to  weep ;  this  is  not  he, 
For,  were  it  Priam,  he  would  smile  on  me. 

Ach,  ^neas,  see,  here  come  the  citizens  : 
Leave  to  lament,  lest  they  laugh  at  our  fears.^ 

E7iter  Cloanthus,  Sergestus,  Ilioneus,  and  others. 

^n.  Lords  of  this  town,  or  whatsoever  style  40 

Belongs  unto  your  name,  vouchsafe  of  ruth 
To  tell  us  who  inhabits  this  fair  town. 
What  kind  of  people,  and  who  governs  them  ; 
For  we  are  strangers  driven  on  this  shore, 
And  scarcely  know  within  what  clime  we  are. 

1  Perhaps  a  misprint  for  "  tears." 


3 1 8  The  Tragedy  of  [act  n. 

///.  I  hear  Eneas'  voice,  but  see  him  not/ 
For  none  of  these  can  be  our  general. 

Ach.  Like  Ilioneus  speaks  this  nobleman, 
But  Ilioneus  goes  not  in  such  robes. 

Serg.  You  are  Achates,  or  I  [am]  deceiv'd.  50 

Ach.  ^neas,  see,  Sergestus,  or  his  ghost ! 

Hi.  He  names  ^  ^neas  ;  let  us  kiss  his  feet. 

do.  It  is  our  captain  ;  see  Ascanius  ! 

Serg.  Live  long  ^neas  and  Ascanius  ! 

yEn.  Achates,  speak,  for  I  am  overjoyed. 

Ach.  O  Ilioneus,  art  thou  yet  alive  ? 

///.  Blest  be  the  time  I  see  Achates'  face ! 

Clo.  Why  turns  ^neas  from  his  trusty  friends  ? 

yEn.  Sergestus,  Ilioneus,  and  the  rest. 
Your  sight  amazed  me.     O,  what  destinies  60 

Have     brought     my    sweet     companions     in     such 

plight  ? 
O,  tell  me,  for  I  long  to  be  resolved  ! 

///.  Lovely  ^neas,  these  are  Carthage-walls ; 
And  here  Queen  Dido  wears  th'  imperial  crown. 
Who  for  Troy's  sake  hath  entertained  us  all, 
And  clad  us  in  these  wealthy  robes  we  wear. 
Oft  hath  she  asked  us  under  whom  we  served  ; 
And,  when  we  told  her,  she  would  weep  for  grief, 
Thinking  the  sea  had  swallowed  up  thy  ships  ; 
And,  now  she  sees  thee,  how  will  she  rejoice !  70 


1  ^neas  is  not  shrouded  in  a  cloud,  as  the  reader  (remembering 
Virgil)  might  at  first  suppose.  Ilioneus  fails  to  recognise  ^neas  in  his 
mean  apparel. 

"  Old  ed.  "  meanes." 


SCENE  I.]       Dido,  Qiieen  of  Carthage.  319 

Serg.  See,  where  her  servitors  pass  through  the  hall/ 
Bearing  a  banquet :  Dido  is  not  far. 

Hi.  Look,  where  she  comes ;  ^neas,  view  ^  her  well. 
^n.  Well  may  I  view  her ;  but  she  sees  not  me. 

Enter  Dido,  Anna,  Iarbas,  arid  train. 

Dido.  What  stranger  art  thou,  that  dost  eye  me  thus  ? 

^«.  Sometime  I  wasAJrojan,  mighty  queen ; 
But  Troy  is  not : — what  shall  I  say  I  am  ?    ^i^-fui^^a,  c<?  <$-rx^  t^jJie,  / 

///.  Renovvmed  Dido,  'tis  our  general,       ^'^^  J"^*^'*^'^  ^^^-/-^^^ 
Warlike  ^neas.  "' '       '^^^*^^^.  xJit^ 

Dido.  Warlike  ^neas,  and  m  these  base  robes  !        80    ^'^'^-'^'i'-^-^ 
Go  fetch  the  garment  which  Sichagus  ware. —  v^  -  *.  - 

\Exit  an  Attendant,  who  brings  in  the  garment^  which 
.^NEAS  puts  on. 

Brave  prince,  welcome  to  Carthage  and  to  me, 

Both  happy  that  ^neas  is  our  guest. 

Sit  in  this  chair,  and  banquet  with  a  queen  :  ^  \ 

^neas  is  ^neas,  were  he  clad  ^r^'^L,    bo  t^- 

In  weeds  as  bad  as  ever  Irus  ware.  -'^^'^  rr 

.^n.  This  is  no  seat  for  one  that's  comfortless  : 
May  it  please  your  grace  to  let  ^neas  wait ; 
For  though  my  birth  be  great,  my  fortune's  mean, 
Too  mean  to  be  companion  to  a  queen.  90 

Dido.  Thy  fortune  may  be  greater  than  thy  birth  : 
Sit  down,  ^neas,  sit  in  Dido's  place ; 

1  We  must  suppose  that  the  scene  changes  to  Dido's  palace. 

2  Old  ed.  "  viewd." 


If. 


320  T/ie  Tragedy  of  [act  n. 

And,  if  this  be  thy  son,  as  I  suppose, 
Here  let  him  sit. — Be  merry,  lovely  child. 

^n.  This  place  beseems  me  not ;  O,  pardon  me  ! 

Dido.  I'll  have  it  so  ;  ^neas,  be  content. 

Asc.  Madam,  you  shall  be  my  mother. 

Dido.  And  so  I  will,  sweet  child. — Be  merry,  man  : 
Here's  to  thy  better  fortune  and  good  stars.         [Drinks. 

ALfi.  In  all  humility,  I  thank  your  grace.  100 

Dido.  Remember  who  thou  art ;  speak  like  thyself : 
HumiUty  belongs  to  common  grooms. 

Ain.  And  who  so  miserable  as  ^neas  is  ? 

Dido.  Lies  it  in  Dido's  hands  to  make  thee  blest  ? 
Then  be  assur'd  thou  art  not  miserable. 

^n.  O  Priamus,  O  Troy,  O  Hecuba ! 

Dido.  May  I  entreat  thee  to  discourse  at  large, 
And  truly  too,  how  Troy  was  overcome  ? 
For  many  tales  go  of  that  city's  fall, 
And  scarcely  do  agree  upon  one  point  :  no 

Some  say  Antenor  did  betray  the  town ; 
Others  report  'twas  Sinon's  perjury; 
But  all  in  this,  that  Troy  is  overcome, 
And  Priam  dead  ;  yet  how,  we  hear  no  news. 

^n.  A  woful  tale  bids  Dido  to  unfold, 
Whose  memory,  like  pale  Death's  stony  mace, 
Beats  forth  my  senses  from  this  troubled  soul. 
And  makes  ^neas  sink  at  Dido's  feet. 

Dido.  What,  faints  ^neas  to  remember  Troy, 
)if^    I  In  whose  defence  he  fought  so  valiantly?  i2q 

Look  up,  and  speak.    '   ,.. 

jEn.  Then  speak,  ^neas,  with  Achilles'  tongue  : 


frz^j 


IK 


5/ 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  321 

And,  Dido,  and  you  Carthaginian  peers, 

Hear  me ;  but  yet  with  Myrmidons'  harsh  ears, 

Daily  inured  to  broils  and  massacres, 

Lest  you  be  mov'd  too  much  with  my  sad  tale. 

The  Grecian  soldiers,  tir'd  with  ten  years'  war, 

Began  to  cry,  "  Let  us  unto  our  ships, 

Troy  is  invincible,  why  stay  we  here  ?  " 

With  whose  outcries  Atrides  being  appalled  130 

Summon'd  the  captains  to  his  princely  tent ; 

Who,  looking  on  the  scars  we  Trojans  gave. 

Seeing  the  number  of  their  men  decreas'd. 

And  the  remainder  weak  and  out  of  heart,  •'  7-^ 


^^. 


Gave  up  their  voices  to  dislodge  the  camp,  ]    ^    J•^^' 

And  so  in  troops  all  marched  to  Tenedos  \  ^  '^  1 

Where  when  they  came,  Ulysses  on  the  sand  |r>. ' 

Assayed  with  honey  words  to  turn  them  back  ;  [X^ 

And,  as  he  spoke,  to  further  his  intent. 
The  winds  did  drive  huge  billows  to  the  shore,  140 

And  heaven  was  darkened  with  tempestuous  clouds ; 
Then  he  alleg'd  the  gods  would  have  them  stay, 


1  "  An  odd  mistake  on  the  part  of  the  poet ;  similar  to  that  which  is 
attributed  to  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  in  SmoUet's  Humphry  Clinker  (vol. 
i.  236,  ed.  1783),  where  his  grace  is  made  to  talk  about  'thirty  thousand 
French  marching  from  Acadia  to  Cape  Breton.'  (The  following  pas. 
sage  of  Sir  J.  Harington's  Orlando  Furioso  will  hardly  be  thought 
sufficient  to  vindicate  our  author  from  the  imputation  of  a  blunder  in 
geography  : 

'  Now  had  they  lost  the  sight  of  Holland  shore, 
And  marcht  with  gentle  gale  in  comely  ranke,'  &c. 

B.  X.  St.  xb.y—Dycc. 
The  passage  of  Harington  seems  to  amply  vindicate  Marlowe, 
VOL.  II.  X 


32  2  The  Tragedy  of  [act  n. 

And  prophesied  Troy  should  be  overcome  : 

And  therewithal  he  calPd  false  Sinon  forth, 

A  man  compact  of  craft  and  perjury, 

Whose  ticing  tongue  was  made  of  Hermes'  pipe, 

To  force  an  hundred  watchful  eyes  to  sleep  ; 

And  him,  Epeus  having  made  the  horse. 

With  sacrificing  wreaths  upon  his  head, 

Ulysses  sent  to  our  unhappy  town ;  150 

Who,  grovelling  in  the  mire  of  Xanthus'  banks, 

His  hands  bound  at  his  back,  and  both  his  eyes 

Turned  up  to  heaven,  as  one  resolved  to  die. 

Our  Phrygian  shepherd[s]  haled  within  the  gates, 

And  brought  unto  the  court  of  Priamus  ; 

To  whom  he  used  action  so  pitiful, 

Looks  so  remorseful,  vows  so  forcible. 

As  therewithal  the  old  man  overcome, 

Kissed  him,  embraced  him,  and  unloosed  his  bands  ; 

And  then — O  Dido,  pardon  me  !  160 

Dido.  Nay,  leave  not  here ;  resolve  me  of  the  rest. 

^n.  O,  th'  enchanting  words  of  that  base  slave 
Made  him  to  think  Epeus'  pine-tree  horse 
A  sacrifice  t'  appease  Minerva's  wrath  ! 
The  rather,  for  that  one  Laocoon, 
Breaking  a  spear  upon  his  hollow  breast, 
Was  with  two  winged  serpents  stung  to  death. 
Whereat  aghast,  we  were  commanded  straight 
With  reverence  to  draw  it  into  Troy  : 
In  which  unhappy  work  was  I  employed ;  170 

These  hands  did  help  to  hale  it  to  the  gates, 
Through  which  it  could  not  enter,  'twas  so  huge, — 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  323 

O,  had  it  never  entefd,  Troy  had  stood  ! 

But  Priamus,  impatient  of  delay, 

Enforced  a  wide  breach  in  that  rampired  wall 

Which  thousand  battering-rams  could  never  pierce, 

And  so  came  in  this  fatal  instrument : 

At  whose  accursed  feet,  as  overjoyed. 

We  banqueted,  till,  overcome  with  wine, 

Some  surfeited,  and  others  soundly  slept.  180 

Which  Sinon  viewing,  caus'd  the  Greekish  spies 

To  haste  to  Tenedos,  and  tell  the  camp  : 

Then  he  unlocked  the  horse ;  and  suddenly, 

From  out  his  entrails,  Neoptolemus, 

Setting  his  spear  upon  the  ground,  leapt  forth. 

And,  after  him,  a  thousand  Grecians  more, 

In  whose  stern  faces  shined  the  quenchless  ^  fire 

That  after  burnt  the  pride  of  Asia. 

By  this,  the  camp  was  come  unto  the  walls, 

And  through  the  breach  did  march  into  the  streets,     190 

Where,  meeting  with  the  rest ;  "  Kill,  kill !  "  they  cried. 

Frighted  with  this  confused  noise,  I  rose. 

And,  looking  from  a  turret,  might  behold 

Young  infants  swimming  in  their  parents'  blood, 

Headless  carcases  piled  up  in  heaps. 

Virgins  half-dead,  dragged  by  their  golden  hair, 

And  with  main  force  flung  on  a  ring  2  of  pikes, 

Old  men  with  swords  thrust  through  their  ag^d  sides. 


1  This  epithet  alone  would  show  that  the  passage  is  Marlowe's. — Cf. 
Edward  II.,  v.  i.  1.  44,  "  Heaven  turn  it  to  a  blaze  q{  quenchless  fire  !" 

*  We  have  had  the  expression  "ring  of  pikes"  in  a  Tamburlaine 
iii.  2.  I.  99. 


324  The  Tragedy  of  [act  u. 

Kneeling  for  mercy  to  a  Greekish  lad, 

Who  with  steel  pole-axes  dash'd  out  their  brains.         200 

Then  buckled  I  mine  armour,  drew  my  sword. 

And  thinking  to  go  down,  came  Hector's  ghost,^ 

With  ashy  visage,  blueish  sulphur  eyes. 

His  arms  torn  from  his  shoulders,  and  his  breast 

Furrowed  with  wounds,  and,  that  which  made  me  weep, 

Thongs  at  his  heels,  by  which  Achilles'  horse 

Drew  him  in  triumph  through  the  Greekish  camp, 

Burst  from  the  earth,  crying  "  ^neas,  fly  ! 

Troy  is  a-fire,  the  Grecians  have  the  town  ! " 

Dido.  O  Hector,  who  weeps  not  to  hear  thy  name  ?  210 

^n.  Yet  flung  I  forth,  and,  desperate  of  my  life. 
Ran  in  the  thickest  throngs,  and  with  this  sword 
Sent  many  of  their  savage  ghosts  to  hell. 
At  last  came  Pyrrhus,  fell  and  full  of  ire, 
His  harness  ^  dropping  blood,  and  on  his  spear 
The  mangled  head  of  Priam's  youngest  son  ; 
And,  after  him,  his  band  of  Myrmidons, 
With  balls  of  wild-iire  in  their  murdering  paws. 
Which  made  the  funeral  flame  that  burnt  fair  Troy  ; 
All  which  hemmed  me  about,  crying,  "This  is  he  !  "  220 

Dido.  Ah,  how  could  poor  ^neas  scape  their  hands  ? 

^n.  My  mother  Venus,  jealous  of  my  health, 
Convey'd  me  from  their  crooked  nets  and  bands  ; 

1  Mr.  Symonds  has  an  excellent  criticism  on  this  passage  in  Shakes- 
peare s  Predecessors,  664-5.  ^^  contrasts  Virgil's  reserve  with  Marlowe's 
exaggeration  ;  and  remarks  that  "  even  Shakespeare,  had  he  dealt  with 
Hector's  as  he  did  with  Hamlet's  father's  ghost,  would  have  sought  to, 
intensify  the  terror  of  the  apparition  at  the  expense  of  artistic  beauty," 

2  Armour. 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  325 

So  I  escaped  the  furious  Pyrrhus'  wrath  : 

Who  then  ran  to  the  palace  of  the  king, 

And  at  Jove's  altar  finding  Priamus. 

About  whose  withered  neck  hung  Hecuba, 

Folding  his  hand  in  hers,  and  jointly  both 

Beating  their  breasts,  and  falling  on  the  ground, 

He,  with  his  falchion's  point  raised  up  at  once,  230 

And  with  Megaera's  eyes,  star'd  in  their  face, 

Threatening  a  thousand  deaths  at  every  glance  : 

To  \yhom  thp  aged  kirig  thus,  trembling,  spoke ; 

"  Achilles^  son,  remember  what  1  was. 

Father  of  fifty  sons,  but  they  are  slain  ; 

Lord  of  my  fortune,  but  my  fortune's  turned  : 

King  of  this  city,  but  my  Troy  is  fired  ; 

And  now  am  neither  father,  lord,  nor  king  : 

Yet  who  so  wretched  but  desires  to  live  ? 

O,  let  me  live,  great  Neoptolemus  !  "  N     240 

Not  moved  at  all,  but  smiling  at  his  tears,  \ 

This  butcher,  whilst  his  hands  were  yet  held  up. 

Treading  upon  his  breast,  struck  off  his  hands. 

Dido.  O,  end,  ^neas  !  I  can  hear  no  more. 

j^n.  At  which  the  frantic  queen  leaped  on  his  face, 
And  in  his  eyelids  hanging  by  the  nails, 
A  little  while  prolonged  her  husband's  life. 
At  last,  the  soldiers  puU'd  her  by  the  heels. 
And  swung  her  howling  in  the  empty  air. 
Which  sent  an  echo  to  the  wounded  king  :  250 

Whereat  he  lifted  up  his  bed-rid  limbs. 
And  would  have  grappled  with  Achilles'  son. 
Forgetting  both  his  want  of  strength  and  hands; 


326  The  Tragedy  of  [act  h. 

Which  he  disdaining,  whisk'd  his  sword  about, 
And  with  the  wind  ^  thereof  the  king  fell  down  ; 
Then  from  the  navel  to  the  throat  at  once 
He  ripp'd  old  Priam  ;  at  whose  latter  gasp 
Jove's  marble  statue  gan  to  bend  the  brow, 
As  loathing  Pyrrhus  for  this  wicked  act. 
Yet  he,  undaunted,  took  his  father's  flag,  260 

And  dipped  it  in  the  old  king's  chill-cold  blood, 
And  then  in  triumph  ran  into  the  streets, 
Through  which  he  could  not  pass  for  slaughter'd  men  ; 
So,  leaning  on  his  sword,  he  stood  stone-still, 
Viewing  the  fire  wherewith  rich  Ilion  burnt. 
By  this,  I  got  my  father  on  my  back, 
This  young  boy  in  mine  arms,  and  by  the  hand 
Led  fair  Creusa,  my  beloved  wife ; 
When  thou.  Achates,  with  thy  sword  mad'st  way, 
And  we  were  round  environed  with  the  Greeks  :  270 

O,  there  I  lost  my  wife  !  and,  had  not  we 
Fought  manfully,  I  had  not  told  this  tale. 
^.^i^^'Yet  manhppd  would  not  serve ;  of  force  we  fled  ; 
And,  as  we  went  unto  our  ships,  thou  know'st 
We  saw  Cassandra  sprawling  in  the  streets. 
Whom  Ajax  ravished  in  Diana's  fane,^ 

1  Old  ed.    "wound."     The  emendation  was  suggested   by  Collier. 
Shakespeare  certainly  glanced  at  this  passage  when  he  wrote  : — 
"  Unequal  match 'd 
Pyrrhus  and  Priam  drives,  in  rage  strikes  wide  ; 
But  with  the  whiff  and  wind  of  his  fell  sword 
The  unnerved  father  falls." 
Very  slight  heightening  was  required  to  give  a  burlesque  turn  to  thi% 
speech  of  .(Eneas. 
^  Old  ed,  "  Fawne." 


SCENE  I.]      Didoy  Queen,  of  Carthage.  327 

Her  cheeks  swollen  with  sighs,  her  hair  all  rent ; 

Whom  I  took  up  to  bear  unto  our  ships  ; 

But  suddenly  the  Grecians  followed  us, 

And  I,  alas,  was  forced  to  let  her  lie !  280 

Then  got  we  to  our  ships,  and,  being  aboard, 

Polyxena  cried  out,  "  ^Eneas,  stay  ! 

The  Greeks  pursue  me  ;  stay,  and  take  me  in  ! " 

Moved  with  her  voice,  I  leap'd  into  the  sea, 

Thinking  to  bear  her  on  my  back  aboard, 

For  all  our  ships  were  launched  into  the  deep, 

And,  as  I  sworn,  she,  standing  on  the  shore, 

Was  by  the  cruel  Myrmidons  surprised. 

And,  after  that,  by  ^  Pyrrhus  sacrificed. 

Dido.  I  die  with  melting  ruth;  ^neas,  leave,-        290 

Anna.  O,  what  became  of  aged  Hecuba  ? 

lar.  How  got  ^neas  to  the  fleet  again  ? 

Dido.  But  how  scaped  Helen,  she  that   caus'd    this 
war  ? 

^n.  Achates,  speak ;  sorrow  hath  tir'd  me  quite. 

Ach.  What  happen'd  to  the  queen  we  cannot  show ; 
We  hear  they  led  her  captive  into  Greece  : 
As  for  ^neas,  he  swom  quickly  back  ; 
And  Helena  betrayed  Deiphobus, 
Her  lover,  after  Alexander  died. 
And  so  was  reconciled  to  Menelaus.  300 

Dido.  O,  had  that  ticing  strumpet  ne'er  been  born  ! — 
Trojan,  thy  ruthful  tale  hath  made  me  sad  : 


'  Old  ed.  "  And  after  by  that." 
^  Cease  speaking. 


328  The  Tragedy  of  [act  n. 

Come,  let  us  think  upon  some  pleasing  sport, 
To  rid  me  from  these  melancholy  thoughts. 

\Exeunt  all  except  Ascanius,  whom  Venus,  enter- 
ing with  Cupid  at  another  door,  takes  by  the 
sleeve  as  he  is  going  off. 

Ven.  Fair   child,    stay   thou   with    Dido's    waiting- 
maid  : 
I'll  give  thee  sugar-almonds,  sweet  conserves, 
A  silver  girdle,  and  a  golden  purse, 
And  this  young  prince  shall  be  thy  playfellow. 

Asc.  Are  you  Queen  Dido's  son  ? 

Cup.  Ay;  and  my  mother  gave  me  this  fine  bow.    310 

Asc.  Shall  I  have  such  a  quiver  and  a  bow  ? 

Ven.  Such  bow,  such  quiver,  and  such  golden  shafts. 
Will  Dido  give  to  sweet  Ascanius. 
For  Dido's  sake  I  take  thee  in  my  arms, 
And  stick  these  spangled  feathers  in  thy  hat : 
Eat  comfits  in  mine  arms,  and  I  will  sing.  S^Sings. 

Now  is  he  fast  asleep  ;  and  in  this  grove,^ 
Amongst  green  brakes,  I'll  lay  Ascanius, 
And  strew  him  with  sweet-smelling  violets. 
Blushing  roses,  purple  hyacinth  :  320 

These  milk-white  doves  shall  be  his  centronels,'^ 
Who,  if  that  any  seek  to  do  him  hurt. 


i  We  must  suppose  that  Venus  had  borne  the  sleeping  Ascanius  to 
Cythera  or  Cyprus.— Cf.  Virg.  ^n.  i.  680-1  :— 

"  Hunc  ego  sopitum  somno  super  alta  Cythera 
Aut  super  Idalium  sacrata  sede  recondam." 
'  Sentinels.     The  form  "centronel"  (or  "sentronel")  occurs  in  the 
Tryal  of  Chevalry  {1605),  i.  3  : — "  Lieutenant,  discharge  Nod,  and  let 
Cricket  stand  Sentronell  till  I  come." 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Qiicen  of  Carthage.  329 

Will  quickly  fly  to  Cytherea's  ^  fist. 

Now,  Cupid,  turn  thee  to  Ascanius'  shape, 

And  go  to  Dido,  who,  instead  of  him, 

Will  set  thee  on  her  lap,  and  play  with  thee  : 

Then  touch  her  white  breast  with  this  arrow-head, 

That  she  may  dote  upon  Eneas'  love. 

And  by  that  means  repair  his  broken  ships, 

Victual  his  soldiers,  give  him  wealthy  gifts,  330 

And  he,  at  last,  depart  to  Italy, 

Or  else  in  Carthage  make  his  kingly  throne. 

Ctip.   I  will,  fair  mother ;  and  so  play  my  part 
As  every  touch  shall  wound  Queen  Dido's  heart.    \Exit. 

Ven.  Sleep,  my  sweet  nephew,^  in  these  cooling  shades, 
Free  from  the  murmur  of  these  running  streams, 
The  cry  of  beasts,  the  rattling  of  the  winds. 
Or  whisking  of  these  leaves  :  all  shall  be  still, 
And  nothing  interrupt  thy  quiet  sleep, 
Till  I  return,  and  take  thee  hence  again.  \^Exit.  340 

1  Olded.  "Citheida's." 

2  Grandson  (Lat.  nepos). 


(     330     ) 


U^ 


CM^f 


ACT    III. 

SCENE   I. 

£n/er^  Cupid  as  Ascanius. 


O//.  Now,  Cupid,  cause  the  Carthaginian  queen 
To  be  enamour'd  of  thy  brother's  looks  : 
Convey  this  golden  arrow  in  thy  sleeve, 
Lest  she  imagine  thou  art  Venus'  son  ; 
And  when  she  strokes  thee  softly  on  the  head, 
Then  shall  I  touch  her  breast  and  conquer  her. 

Enter  Dido,  Anna,  and  Iarbas. 

lar.  How  long,  fair  Dido,  shall  I  pine  for  thee  ? 
'Tis  not  enough  that  thou  dost  grant  me  love, 
But  that  I  may  enjoy  what  I  desire  : 
That  love  is  childish  which  consists  in  words.  lo 

Dido.   Iarbas,  know,  that  thou,  of  all  my  wooers, — 

And  yet  have  I  had  many  mightier  kings, —  

Hast  had  the  greatest  favours  I  could  give. 
I  fear  me.  Dido  hath  been  counted  light 
In  being  too  familiar  with  Iarbas  ; 

1  Scene  :  a  room  in  Dido's  palace. 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Caj'thage.  331 

Albeit  the  gods  do  know,  no  wanton  thought 
Had  ever  residence  in  Dido's  breast. 

lar.  But  Dido  is  the  favour  I  request. 

Dido.  Fear  not,  larbas ;  Dido  may  be  thine. 

Anna.  Look,  sister,  how  Eneas'  Uttle  son  20 

Plays  with  your  garments  and  embraceth  you. 

Cup.  No,  Dido  will  not  take  me  in  her  arms  ; 
I  shall  not  be  her  son,  she  loves  me  not. 

Dido.  Weep  not,    sweet  boy ;  thou  shalt  be   Dido's 
son  : 
Sit  in  my  lap,  and  let  me  hear  thee  sing.     [Cupid  sings. 
No  more,  my  child ;  now  talk  another  while. 
And  tell  me  where  learn'dst  thou  this  pretty  song. 

Cup.  My  cousin  Helen  taught  it  me  in  Troy. 

Dido.  How  lovely  is  Ascanius  when  he  smiles  ! 

Cup.  Will  Dido  let  me  hang  about  her  neck  ?  30  ./ 

Dido.  Ay,  wag ;  and  give  thee  leave  to  kiss  her  too.         dyUA^cA 

Cup.  What  will  you  give  me  now  ?     I'll  have  this  fan.        ^     ^^    ^ 

Dido.  Take  it,  Ascanius,  for  thy  father's  sake. 

Jar.  Come,  Dido,  leave  Ascanius ;  let  us  walk. 

Dido.  Go  thou  away  ;  Ascanius  shall  stay. 

Jar.  Ungentle  queen,  is  this  thy  love  to  me ?  /^*^ '--'--  "'^ 

Dido.  O,  stay,  larbas,  and  I'll  go  with  thee  !  A-\  ,.     ,    .  /" 

Cup.  An  if  my  mother  go,  I'll  follow  her. 

Dido.  Why  stay'st  thou  here  ?  thou  art  no  love  of  mine. 

Jar.   larbas,  die,  seeing  she  abandons  thee  !  40 

Dido.  No  ;  live,  larbas  :  What  hast  thou  deserved, 
That  I  should  say  thou  art  no  love  of  mine  ? 
Something  thou  hast  deserved. — Away,  I  say  ! 
Depart  from  Carthage  ;  come  not  in  my  sight. 


332  The  Tragedy  of  [\cTnr. 

lar.  Am  I  not  king  of  rich  Ggetulia  ? 

Dido.  larbas,  pardon  me,  and  stay  a  while. 

Cup.  Mother,  look  here. 

Dido.  What  tell'st  thou  me  of  rich  Gaetulia  ? 
Am  not  I  queen  of  Libya  ?  then  depart. 

lar.   I  go  to  feed  the  humour  of  my  love,  5° 

Yet  not  from  Carthage  for  a  thousand  worlds. 

Dido.  larbas  ! 

Ia7:  Doth  Dido  call  me  back  ? 

Dido.  No  ;  but  I  charge  thee  never  look  on  me. 

lar.  Then  pull  out  both  mine  eyes,  or  let  me  die. 

\Exit. 

Anna.  Wherefore  doth  Dido  bid  larbas  go? 

Dido.   Because    his    loathsome    sight    offends    mine 
eye, 
And  in  my  thoughts  is  shrined  another  love. 
O  Anna,  didst  thou  know  how  sweet  love  were, 
Full  soon  wouldst  thou  abjure  this  single  life  ! 

Anna.  Poor  soul,  I  know  too  well  the  sour  of  love  :  60 
O,  that  larbas  could  but  fancy  me  !  \^Aside. 

Dido.  Is  not  .^neas  fair  and  beautiful  ? 

Anna.  Yes  ;  and  larbas  foul  and  favourless. 

Dido.  Is  he  not  eloquent  in  all  his  speech  ? 

Amia.  Yes  ;  and  larbas  rude  and  rustical. 

Dido.  Name  not  larbas  :  but,  sweet  Anna,  say, 
Is  not  ^neas  worthy  Dido's  love  ? 

Anna.  O  sister,  were  you  empress  of  the  world, 
^neas  well  deserves  to  be  your  love  ! 
So  lovely  is  he,  that,  where'er  he  goes,  7° 

The  people  swarm  to  gaze  him  in  the  face. 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  ■})'^2> 

Dido.  But   tell    them,    none    shall   gaze    on    him 
but  I, 
Lest  their  gross  eye-beams  taint  my  lover's  cheeks. 
Anna,  good  sister  Anna,  go  for  him, 
Lest  with  these  sweet  thoughts  I  melt  clean  away. 

Anna.  Then,  sister,  you'll  abjure  larbas'  love? 

Dido.  Yet  must  I  hear  that  loathsome  name  again  ? 
Run  for  ^neas,  or  I'll  fly  to  him,  \Exit  Anna. 

Cup.  You  shall  not  hurt  my  father  when  he  comes. 

Dido.  No;  for  thy  sake  TU  love  thy  father  well. —   So 
O  dull-conceited  Dido,  that  till  now 
Didst  never  think  ^neas  beautiful ! 
But  now,  for  quittance  of  this  oversight, 
I'll  make  rne  bracelets  of  his  golden  hair  ; 
His  glistering  eyes  shall  be  my  looking-glass  ; 
His  lips  an  altar,  where  I'll  offer  up  ^ 
As  many  kisses  as  the  sea  hath  sands  ; 
Instead  of  music  I  will  hear  him  speak  ; 
His  looks  shall  be  my  only  library  ; 
And  thou,  ^neas.  Dido's  treasury,  9° 

In  whose  fair  bosom  I  will  lock  more  wealth 
Than  twenty  thousand  Indias  can  afford. 
O,  here  he  comes !     Love,  love,  give  Dido  leave 
To  be  more  modest  than  her  thoughts  admit, 
Lest  I  be  made  a  wonder  to  the  world. 


1  The  same  form  of  expression  occurs  in  the  Jew  of  Malta,  iii.  11. 

2,  33=  — 

' '  Upon  which  altar  I  will  offer  up 
My  daily  sacrifice  of  sighs  and  tears." 


334  '^^^^  Tragedy  of  [act  m. 

Enter  ^Eneas,  Achates,  Sergestus,  Ilioneus,  and 
Cloanthus. 

Achates,  how  doth  Carthage  please  your  lord  ? 

Ach.  That  will  ^neas  show  your  majesty. 

Dido,  ^neas,  art  thou  there  ? 

^n.  I  understand  your  highness  sent  for  me. 

Dido.  No  ;  but,  now  thou  art  here,  tell  me,  in  sooth,  loo 
In  what  might  Dido  highly  pleasure  thee. 

^n.  So  much  have  I  receiv'd  at  Dido's  hands, 
As,  without  blushing,  I  can  ask  no  more  : 
Yet,  queen  of  Afric,  are  my  ships  unrigg'd, 
My  sails  all  rent  in  sunder  with  the  wind, 
My  oars  broken,  and  my  tackling  lost, 
Yea,  all  my  navy  split  with  rocks  and  shelves  ; 
Nor  stern  nor  anchor  have  our  maimed  fleet ; 
Our  masts  the  furious  winds  struck  overboard  : 
Which  piteous  wants  if  Dido  will  supply,  "o 

We  will  account  her  author  of  our  lives. 

Dido,   ^neas,  I'll  repair  thy  Trojan  ships. 
Conditionally  that  thou  wilt  stay  with  me, 
And  let  Achates  sail  to  Italy  : 
I'll  give  thee  tackling  made  of  rivelled  ^  gold. 
Wound  on  the  barks  of  odoriferous  trees  ;  ^ 
Oars  of  massy  ivory,  full  of  holes, 
Through  which  the  water  shall  delight  to  play  ; 
Thy  anchors  shall  be  hewed  from  crystal  rocks, 

1  "I.e.  (I  suppose)  twisted." — Dyce. 

2  "  The  blank  verse,   falling   in  couplets,  seems   to   cry   aloud    for 
rhymes." — Symonds. 


SCENE  I.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  335 

Which,  if  thou  lose,  shall  shine  above  the  waves  ;        120 

The  masts,  whereon  thy  swelling  sails  shall  hang, 

Hollow  pyramides  of  silver  plate ; 

The  sails  of  folded  lawn,  where  shall  be  wrought 

The  wars  of  Troy, — but  not  Troy's  overthrow ; 

For  ballace,^  empty  Dido's  treasury  : 

Take  what  ye  will,  but  leave  -^neas  here.  _J-y^ ^     -  '^'*~'' 

Achates,  thou  shalt  be  so  seemly  ^  clad, 

As  sea-born  nymphs  shall  swarm  about  thy  ships, 

And  wanton  mermaids  court  thee  with  sweet  songs, 

Flinging  in  favours  of  more  sovereign  worth  130 

Than  Thetis  hangs  about  Apollo's  neck. 

So  that  ^>neas  may  but  stay  with  me. 

^n.  Wherefore  would  Dido  have  ^neas  stay  ? 

Dido.   To  war  against  my  bordering  enemies, 
^neas,  think  not  Dido  is  in  love  ; 
For,  if  that  any  man  could  conquer  me, 
I  had  been  wedded  ere  .^neas  came  : 
See,  where  the  pictures  of  my  suitors  hang  ; 
And  are  not  these  as  fair  as  fair  may  be  ? 

Ach.  I  saw  this  man  at  Troy,  ere  Troy  was  sack'd.  140 

j^n.^  I  this  in  Greece,  when  Paris  stole  fair  Helen. 

///.  This  man  and  I  were  at  Olympia's  *  games, 


1  Ballast. 

2  I  have  adopted  Dyce's  emendation.  The  old  ed.  gives  "meanly.'' 
(Collier  suggested  "newly.") 

'  Dyce  gives  this  line  to  Sergestus,  arguing  that  the  prefix  ^n.  is 
"  proved  to  be  wrong  by  the  next  speech  of  Dido."  But  we  may  sup- 
pose that  Dido  is  there  calling  Eneas'  attention  to  another  set  of  pic- 
tures on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stage. 

*  Old  ed.  "Olympus." 


336  TJie  Tragedy  of  [act  m. 

Serg.  I  know  this  face  ;  he  is  a  Persian  born  : 
I  travell'd  with  him  to  -^tolia. 

Cloan.  And  I  in  Athens  with  this  gentleman, 
Unless  I  be  deceived,  disputed  once. 

Dido.  But  speak,  yEneas ;  know  you  none  of  these  ? 

^n.  No,  madam  ;  but  it  seems  that  these  are  kings. 

Dido.  All  these,  and  others  which  I  never  saw, 
Have  been  most  urgent  suitors  for  my  love ;  150 

Some  came  in  person,  others  sent  their  legates. 
Yet  none  obtained  me  :  I  am  free  from  all ; 
And  yet,  God  knows,  entangled  unto  one. 
This  was  an  orator,  and  thought  by  words 
To  compass  me  :  but  yet  he  was  deceiv'd  : 
And  this  a  Spartan  courtier,  vain  and  wild  ; 
But  his  fantastic  humours  pleased  not  me  : 
This  was  Alcion,  a  musician  ; 
But,  play'd  he  ne'er  so  sweet,  I  let  him  go  : 
This  was  the  wealthy  king  of  Thessaly  ;  i6o 

But  I  had  gold  enough,  and  cast  him  off: 
This,  Meleager's  son,  a  warlike  prince ; 
But  weapons  gree  not  with  my  tender  years  : 
The  rest  are  such  as  all  the  world  well  knows  : 
Yet  now  ^  I  swear,  by  heaven  and  him  I  love, 
I  was  as  far  from  love  as  they  from  hate. 

^^n.  O,  happy  shall  he  be  whom  Dido  loves  ! 

Dido.  Then  never  say  that  thou  art  miserable. 
Because,  it  may  be,  thou  shalt  be  my  love  ; 
Yet  boast  not  of  it,  for  I  love  thee  not, —  170 

1  Olded.  "how." 


SCENE  II.]      Dido,  Qtieeii  of  Carthage. 


oj- 


And  yet  I  hate  thee  not. — O,  if  I  speak, 

I  shall  betray  myself!  [Aside.] — yEneas,  come  :  ^ 

We  two  will  go  a-hunting  in  the  woods ; 

But  not  so  much  for  thee, — thou  art  but  one, — 

As  for  Achates  and  his  followers.  [Exetoif. 


SCENE  11. 

Enfer^  Juno  /o  Ascanius,  who  lies  asleep. 

Juno.  Here  lies  my  hate,  Eneas'  cursed  brat, 
The  boy  wherein  false  Destiny  delights. 
The  heir  of  Fury,^  the  favourite  of  the  Fates,^ 
That  ugly  imp  that  shall  outwear  my  wrath, 
And  wrong  my  deity  with  high  disgrace. 
But  I  will  take  another  order  now. 
And  raze  th'  eternal  register  of  Time  : 
Troy  shall  no  more  call  him  her  second  hope, 
Nor  Venus  triumph  in  his  tender  youth  ; 
For  here,  in  spite  of  Heaven,  I'll  murder  him,  lo 

And  feed  infection  with  his  let-out  ^  life. 
Say,  Paris,  now  shall  Venus  have  the  ball  ? 
Say,  vengeance,  now  shall  her  Ascanius  die  ? 
O  no  1  God  wot,  I  cannot  watch  my  time, 

1  Old  ed.  "speak"  (repeated  from  the  line  above). 

2  Scene  :  a  grove. 

3  "  Heir  of  Fury"  is  certainly  a  strange  expression,  but  I  dare  not 
adopt  Cunningham's  emendation,  "  heir  of  Troy." 

4  Old  ed.  "  face." 

5  Old  ed.  "left  out." 

VOL.  II.  Y 


T,2,S  The  Tragedy  of  [act  m. 

Nor  quit  good  turns  with  double  fee  down  told  : 

Tut,  I  am  simple,  without  mind  ^  to  hurt, 

And  have  no  gall  at  all  to  grieve  my  foes  ! 

But  lustful  Jove  and  his  adulterous  child 

Shall  find  it  written  on  confusion's  front, 

That  only  Juno  rules  in  Rhamnus  town.^  20 

Enter  Venus. 

Ven.  What   should   this  mean  ?  my  doves  are  back 
return'd 
Who  warn  me  of  such  danger  prest  ^  at  hand 
To  harm  my  sweet  Ascanius'  lovely  life. — 
Juno,  my  mortal  foe,  what  make  you  here  ? 
Avaunt,  old  witch  !  and  trouble  not  my  wits. 

Juno,  Fie,  Venus,  that  such  causeless  words  of  wrath 
Should  e'er  defile  so  fair  a  mouth  as  thine ! 
Are  not  we  both  sprung  of  celestial  race. 
And  banquet,  as  two  sisters,  with  the  gods  ? 
Why  is  it,  then,  displeasure  should  disjoin  30 

Whom  kindred  and  acquaintance  co-unites  ? 

Ven.  Out,  hateful  hag  !  thou  wouldst  have  slain  my  son, 
Had  not  my  doves  discovered  thy  intent : 
But  I  will  tear  thy  eyes  fro  forth  thy  head, 
And  feast  the  birds  with  their  blood-shotten  balls, 
If  thou  but  lay  thy  fingers  on  my  boy. 

Juno.  Is  this,  then,  all  the  thanks  that  I  shall  have 
For  saving  him  from  snakes'  and  serpents'  stings, 

1  Old  ed.  "made." — The  correction  is  Dyce's. 
3  See  vol.  i.  p.  35,  note  4. 
3  Ready. 


SCENE  II.]     Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage. 


oo: 


That  would  have  killed  him,  sleeping,  as  he  lay  ? 
What,  though  I  was  offended  with  thy  son,  40 

And  wrought  him  mickle  woe  on  sea  and  land, 
When,  for  the  hate  of  Trojan  Ganymede,^ 
That  was  advanced  by  my  Hebe's  shame, 
And  Paris'  judgment  of  the  heavenly  ball, 
I  mustered  all  the  winds  unto  his  wreck, 
And  urg'd  each  element  to  his  annoy  ? 
Yet  now  I  do  repent  me  of  his  ruth, 
And  wish  that  I  had  never  wrong'd  him  so. 
Bootless,  I  saw,  it  was  to  war  with  fate 
That  hath  so  many  unresisted  -  friends  :  50 

Wherefore  I  changed  ^  my  counsel  with  the  time, 
And  planted  love  where  envy  erst  had  sprung. 
Ven.  Sister  of  Jove,  if  that  thy  love  be  such 
As  these  thy  protestations  do  paint  forth. 
We  two,  as  friends,  one  fortune  will  divide : 
Cupid  shall  lay  his  arrows  in  thy  lap, 
And  to  a  sceptre  change  his  golden  shafts ; 
Fancy  *  and  modesty  shall  live  as  mates. 
And  thy  fair  peacocks  by  my  pigeons  perch  : 
Love  my  ^neas,  and  desire  is  thine ;  60 

The  day,  the  night,  my  swans,  my  sweets,  are  thine. 
yiino.  More  than  melodious  are  these  words  to  me, 

1  A  Virgilian  passage.     Cf.  yS«.  i.  26-8  : — 

"  Manet  alta  mente  repostum 
Judicium  Paridis  spretaeque  injuria  forma;, 
Et  genus  invisum,  et  rapti  Ganimedis  honores." 

2  Irresistible. 

'  Old  ed.  "change." 
*  Love. 


340  The  Tragedy  of  [act  m. 

That  overcloy  my  soul  with  their  content. 

Venus,  sweet  Venus,  how  may  I  deserve 

Such  amorous  favours  at  thy  beauteous  hand  ? 

But,  that  thou  mayst  more  easily  perceive 

How  highly  I  do  prize  this  amity, 

Hark  to  a  motion  of  eternal  league, 

Which  I  will  make  in  quittance  of  thy  love. 

Thy  son,  thou  know'st,  with  Dido  now  remains,  70 

And  feeds  his  eyes  with  favours  of  her  court ; 

She,  likewise,  in  admiring  spends  her  time, 

And  cannot  talk  nor  think  of  aught  but  him  : 

Why  should  not  they,  then,  join  in  marriage. 

And  bring  forth  mighty  kings  to  Carthage-town, 

Whom  casualty  of  sea  hath  made  such  friends  ? 

And,  Venus,  let  there  be  a  match  confirm'd 

Betwixt  these  two,  whose  loves  are  so  alike ; 

And  both  our  deities,  conjoin'd  in  one, 

Shall  chain  felicity  unto  their  throne.  80 

Ve?i.  Well  could  I  like  this  reconcilement's  means ; 
But  much  I  fear  my  son  will  ne'er  consent, 
Whose  armed  soul,  already  on  the  sea. 
Darts  forth  her  light  [un]to  Lavinia's  shore. 

Juno.  Fair  queen  of  love,  I  will  divorce  these  doubts, 
And  find  my  way  to  weary  such  fond  thoughts. 
This  day  they  both  a-hunting  forth  will  ride 
Into  the^  woods  adjoining  to  these  walls; 
When,  in  the  midst  of  all  their  gamesome  sports, 
I'll  make  the  clouds  dissolve  their  watery  works,  90 

1  Old  ed.  "these." 


SCENE  III.]    Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  341 

And  drench  Silvanus'  dwellings  with  their  showers ; 
Then  in  one  cave  the  queen  and  he  shall  meet, 
And  interchangeably  discourse  their  thoughts, 
Whose  short  conclusion  will  seal  up  their  hearts 
Unto  the  purpose  which  we  now  propound. 

Ven.  Sister,  I  see  you  savour  of  my  wiles  : 
Be  it  as  you  will  have  [it]  for  this  once. 
Meantime  Ascanius  shall  be  my  charge  ; 
Whom  I  will  bear  to  Ida  in  mine  arms, 
And  couch  him  in  Adonis'  purple  down.  100 

\^Exeunt. 


SCENE  III. 

Etiter'^  Dido,  ^Eneas,  Anna,  Iarbas,  Achates,  Cupid 
as  Ascanius,  ajid  Followers. 

Dido.  yEneas,  think  not  but  I  honour  thee, 
That  thus  in  person  go  with  thee  to  hunt : 
My  princely  robes,  thou  see'st,  are  laid  aside, 
Whose  glittering  pomp  Diana's  shroud  -  supplies  ; 
All  fellows  now,  disposed  alike  to  sport ; 
The  woods  are  wide,  and  we  have  store  of  game. 
Fair  Trojan,  hold  my  golden  bow  a  while, 
Until  I  gird  my  quiver  to  my  side. — 
Lords,  go  before ;  we  two  must  talk  alone. 

lar.  Ungentle,  can  she  wrong  Iarbas  so  ?  10 


1  Scene  :  a  wood  near  Carthage. 

2  Old  ed.  "shrowdes." 


342  The  Tragedy  of  [act.  m. 

I'll  die  before  a  stranger  have  that  grace. 

"  We  two  will  talk  alone  " — what  words  be  these  ! 

{Aside. 

Dido.   What  makes  larbas  here  of  all  the  rest? 
We  could  have  gone  without  your  company. 

yEn.  But  love  and  duty  led  him  on  perhaps 
To  press  beyond  acceptance  to  your  sight. 

lar.  Why  !  man  of  Troy,  do  I  offend  thine  eyes  ? 
Or  art  thou  grieved  thy  betters  press  so  nigh  ? 

Dido.  How  now,  Gaetulian  !  are  you  grown  so  brave, 
To  challenge  us  with  your  comparisons  ?  20 

Peasant,  go  seek  companions  like  thyself, 
And  meddle  not  with  any  that  I  love. — 
iEneas,  be  not  moved  at  what  he  says ; 
For  otherwhile  he  will  be  out  of  joint. 

lar.  Women  may  wrong  by  privilege  of  love  ; 
But,  should  that  man  of  men,  Dido  except, 
Have  taunted  me  in  these  opprobrious  terms, 
I  would  have  either  drunk  his  dying  blood, 
Or  else  I  would  have  given  my  life  in  gage.  29 

Dido.  Huntsmen,  why  pitch  you  not  your  toils  apace. 
And  rouse  the  light-foot  deer  from  forth  their  lair  ? 

Anna.  Sister,  see,  see  Ascanius  in  his  pomp, 
Bearing  his  hunt-spear  bravely  in  his  hand  ! 

Dido.  Yea,  little  son,  are  you  so  forward  now? 

Cup.  Ay,  mother ;  I  shall  one  day  be  a  man, 
And  better  able  unto  other  arms  ; 
Meantime  these  wanton  weapons  serve  my  war, 
Which  I  will  break  betwixt  a  lion's  jaws. 

Dido.  What  ?  dar'st  thou  look  a  lion  in  the  face  ? 


SCENE  III.]    Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  343 

Cup.  Ay ;  and  outface  him  too,  do  what  he  can.       40 

Anna.  How  like  his  father  speaketh  he  in  all ! 

^n.  And  mought  I  live  to  see  him  sack  rich  Thebes, 
And  load  his  spear  with  Grecian  princes'  heads. 
Then  would  I  wish  me  with  Anchises'  tomb, 
And  dead  to  honour  that  hath  brought  me  up. 

Jar.  And  might  I  live  to  see  thee  shipp'd  away, 
And  hoist  aloft  on  Neptune's  hideous  hills. 
Then  would  I  wish  me  in  fair  Dido's  arms, 
And  dead  to  scorn  that  hath  pursu'd  me  so.  \_Aside. 

^n.  Stout    friend    Achates,    dost    thou    know   this 
wood  ?  50 

Ach.  As  I  remember,  here  you  shot  the  deer 
That  saved  your  famish'd  soldiers'  lives  from  death, 
When  first  you  set  your  foot  upon  the  shore ; 
And  here  we  met  fair  Venus,  virgin-like, 
Bearing  her  bow  and  quiver  at  her  back. 

j^ti.  O,  how  these  irksome  labours  now  delight, 
And  overjoy  my  thoughts  with  their  escape  ! 
Who  would  not  undergo  all  kind  of  toil. 
To  be  well-stor'd  with  such  a  winter's  tale  ? 

Dido,  -^neas,  leave  these  dumps,  and  let's  away.     60 
Some  to  the  mountains,  some  unto  the  soil,^ 
You  to  the  valleys, — thou  unto  the  house. 

\_Exe7(?it  all  except  I  areas. 

lar.  Ay,  this  it  is  which  wounds  me  to  the  death, 


1  A  deer  or  other  animal  was  said  to  "  take  soil  "  when  it  fled  from 
its  pursuers  to  the  water.  Dyce  quotes  from  Cotgrave  : — "  Souil  de 
sangUer.  The  soile  of  a  wild  Boare ;  the  slough  or  mire  wherein  he 
hath  wallowed." 


344  '^^^^  Tragedy  of  [act  m. 

To  see  a  Phrygian,  far-fet  ^  o'er  the  sea, 

Preferr'd  before  a  man  of  majesty. 

O  love  !     O  hate  !     O  cruel  women's  hearts. 

That  imitate  the  moon  in  every  change, 

And,  like  the  planets,  ever  love  to  range  ! 

What  shall  I  do,  thus  wronged  with  disdain  ? 

Revenge  me  on  ^Eneas  or  on  her?  70 

On  her  !  fond  man,  that  were  to  war  'gainst  heaven. 

And  with  one  shaft  provoke  ten  thousand  darts. 

This  Trojan's  end  will  be  thy  envy's  aim, 

Whose  blood  will  reconcile  thee  to  content. 

And  make  love  drunken  with  thy  sweet  desire. 

But  Dido,  that  now  holdeth  him  so  dear, 

Will  die  with  very  tidings  of  his  death  : 

But  time  will  discontinue  her  content, 

And  mould  her  mind  unto  new  fancy's  shapes, 

O  God  of  heaven,  turn  the  hand  of  Fate  80 

Unto  that  happy  day  of  my  delight ! 

And  then — what  then  ?     larbas  shall  but  love  : 

So  doth  he  now,  though  not  with  equal  gain ; 

That  resteth  in  the  rival  of  thy  pain, 

Who  ne'er  will  cease  to  soar  till  he  be  slain.  \Exit. 

SCENE  IV. 

The  storm.     Enter  ^neas  aiid  Dido  in  the  cave,  at 

several  times. 
Dido,  ^neas  ! 


1  Far-fetched.     There  was  a  common  proverb    '^ far-fet  and   dear- 
bought  is  good  for  ladies." — Old  ed.  " far fet  to  the  sea." 


SCENE  IV.]     Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  345 

^n.  Dido  ! 

Dido.  Tell  me,  dear  love,  how  found  you  out  this  cave  ? 

^n.  By  chance,  sweet  queen,  as  Mars  and  Venus  met. 

Dido.   Why,  that  was  in  a  net,  where  we  are  loose  ; 
And  yet  I  am  not  free, — O,  would  I  were  ! 

^n.  Why,  what  is  it  that  Dido  may  desire 
And  not  obtain,  be  it  in  human  power  ? 

Dido.  The  thing  that  I  will  die  before  I  ask, 
And  yet  desire  to  have  before  I  die.  10 

^n.  It  is  not  aught  ^neas  may  achieve? 

Dido.  JEneas  !  no  ;  although  his  eyes  do  pierce. 

^n.  What,  hath  larbas  anger'd  her  in  aught  ? 
And  will  she  be  avenged  on  his  life  ? 

Dido.  Not  anger'd  me,  except  in  angering  thee. 

yEn.  Who,  then,  of  all  so  cruel  may  he  be 
That  should  detain  thy  eye  in  his  defects  ? 

Dido.  The  man  that  I  do  eye  where'er  I  am  ; 
Whose  amorous  face,  like  Ptean,  sparkles  fire, 
Whenas  he  butts  his  beams  on  Flora's  bed.  20 

Prometheus  hath  put  on  Cupid's  shape, 
And  I  must  perish  in  his  burning  arms  : 
^■Eneas,  O  yEneas,  quench  these  flames  ! 

/£n.  What  ails  my  queen  ?  is  she  fain  sick  of  late  ? 

Dido.  Not  sick,  my  love  ;  but  sick  I  must  conceal 
The  torment  that  it  boots  me  not  reveal  : 
And  yet  I'll  speak, — and  yet  I'll  hold  my  peace. 
Do  shame  her  worst,  I  will  disclose  my  grief: 
yEneas,  thou  art  he — what  did  I  say  ? 
Something  it  was  that  now  I  have  forgot.  30 

^■En.  What  means  fair  Dido  by  this  doubtful  speech  ? 


34^  The  Tragedy  of  [acthi. 

Dido.  Nay,  nothing  ;  but  ^neas  loves  me  not. 

^n.  yEneas'  thoughts  dare  not  ascend  so  high 
As  Dido's  heart,  which  monarchs  might  not  scale. 

Dido.  It  was  because  I  saw  no  king  like  thee, 
Whose  golden  crown  might  balance  my  content ; 
But  now  that  I  have  found  what  to  affect, 
I  follow  one  that  loveth  fame  'fore  ^  me, 
And  rather  had  seem  fair  [in]  Sirens'  eyes, 
Than  to  the  Carthage  queen  that  dies  for  him.  40 

^n.  If  that  your  majesty  can  look  so  low 
As  my  despised  worths  that  shun  all  praise. 
With  this  my  hand  I  give  to  you  my  heart. 
And  vow,  by  all  the  gods  of  hospitality. 
By  heaven  and  earth,  and  my  fair  brother's  bow, 
By  Paphos,  Capys,"  and  the  purple  sea 
From  whence  my  radiant  mother  did  ascend,^ 
And  by  this  sword  that  sav'd  me  from  the  Greeks, 
Never  to  leave  these  new-upreared  walls, 
Whiles  Dido  lives  and  rules  in  Juno's  town, —  50 

Never  to  like  or  love  any  but  her  ! 

Dido.  What  more  than  Delian  music  do  I  hear, 
That  calls  my  soul  from  forth  his  living  seat 
To  move  unto  the  measures  of  delight  ? 
Kind  clouds,  that  sent  forth  such  a  courteous  storm 
As  made  disdain  to  fly  to  fancy's  lap  ! 
Stout  love,  in  mine  arms  make  thy  Italy, 


1  Old  ed.  "for." — In  the  preceding  line  the  old  ed.  reads  "effect." 

2  The  father  of  Anchises. 

'  Old  ed.  "descend  "  (which  Dyceand  Cunningham  strangely  retain). 


SCENE  IV.]     Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  347 

Whose  crown  and  kingdom  rests  at  thy  command  : 
Sichseus,  not  iEneas,  be  thou  call'd  ; 
The  king  of  Carthage,  not  Anchises'  son.  60 

Hold,  take  these  jewels  at  thy  lover's  hand, 

\Giving jeivch,  &=€. 
These  golden  bracelets,  and  this  wedding-ring. 
Wherewith  my  husband  woo'd  me  yet  a  maid, 
And  be  thou  king  of  Libya  by  my  gift. 

\_Exeuut  to  the  cave. 


(     348     ) 


ACT    IV. 
SCENE  I. 

Enter  ^  Achates,  Cupid  as  Ascanius,  Iarbas,  and 

Anna, 

Ach.  Did  ever  men  see  such  a  sudden  storm 
Or  day  so  clear  so  suddenly  o'ercast? 

lar.  I  think  some  fell  enchantress  dwelleth  here, 
That  can  call  them  ^  forth  whenas  she  please, 
And  dive  into  black  tempest's  treasury, 
Whenas  she  means  to  mask  the  world  with  clouds. 

Anna.  In  all  my  life  I-  never  knew  the  like ; 
It  hailed,  it  snowed,  it  lightened  all  at  once. 

Ach.   I  think  it  was  the  devil's  revelling  night, 
There  was  such  hurly-burly  in  the  heavens  : 
Doubtless  Apollo's  axle-tree  is  crack'd. 
Or  aged  Atlas'  shoulder  out  of  joint, 
The  motion  was  so  over-violent. 


1  Scene :  before  the  cave. 

2  The  line  is  unrhythmical  and  corrupt.     Qy.  "  That  can  call  forth 
the  winds  "? 


SCENE  I.]       Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  349 

lar.  In  all  this  coil,  where  have  ye  left  the  queen  ? 
Asc.  Nay,  where's  my  warlike  father,  can  you  tell  ? 
A?ina.    Behold,  where  both  of  them  come  forth  the 

cave. 
Jar.  Come  forth  the  cave !  can   heaven  endure  this 
sight  ? 
larbas,  curse  that  unrevenging  Jove, 
Whose  flinty  dart  slept  in  Typhoeus'  ^  den, 
Whiles  these  adulterers  surfeited  with  sin.  20 

Nature,  why  mad'st  me  not  some  poisonous  beast. 
That  with  the  sharpness  of  my  edged  sting 
I  might  have  staked  them  both  unto  the  earth. 
Whilst  they  were  sporting  in  this  darksome  cave  ! 

[Aside. 

Enter,  from  the  cave,  ^neas  a7id  Dido. 

^n.  The  air  is  clear,  and  southern  winds  are  whist.- 
Come,  Dido,  let  us  hasten  to  the  town. 
Since  gloomy  yEolus  doth  cease  to  frown. 

Dido.  Achates  and  Ascanius,  well  met. 

^n.  Fair  Anna,  how  escap'd  you  from  the  shower  ? 

Anna.  As  others  did,  by  running  to  the  wood.  30 

Dido.  But  where  were  you,  larbas,  all  this  while  ? 

Jar.  Not  with  vEneas  in  the  ugly  cave. 

Dido.  I  see,  .^neas  sticketh  in  your  mind ; 
But  I  will  soon  put  by  that  stumbling-block. 
And  quell  those  hopes  that  thus  employ  your  cares. ^ 

[Exeunt. 

1  Old  ed.  "Tiphous."  2  still,  hushed. 

2  Old  ed.  "  eares." 


350  The  Tragedy  of  [act  iv. 

SCENE  II. 

Enter  ^  Iarbas  to  sacrifice. 

lar.  Come,  servants,  come  ;  bring  forth  the  sacrifice, 
That  I  may  pacify  that  gloomy  Jove, 
Whose  empty  altars  have  enlarg'd  our  ills. — 

[Servants  bring  in  the  sacrifice,  and  then  exeunt. 
Eternal  Jove,  great  master  of  the  clouds, 
Father  of  gladness  and  all  frolic  thoughts, 
That  with  thy  gloomy  ^  hand  corrects  the  heaven. 
When  airy  creatures  war  amongst  themselves ; 
Hear,  hear,  O,  hear  Iarbas'  plaining  prayers, 
Whose  hideous  echoes  make  the  welkin  howl. 
And  all  the  woods  Eliza  ^  to  resound  !  lo 

The  woman  that  thou  willed  us  entertain, 
Where,  straying  in  our  borders  up  and  down. 
She  crav'd  a  hide  of  ground  to  build  a  town. 
With  whom  we  did  divide  both  laws  and  land. 
And  all  the  fruits  that  plenty  else  sends  forth, 
Scorning  our  loves  and  royal  marriage-rites. 
Yields  up  her  beauty  to  a  stranger's  bed  ; 
Who,  having  wrought  her  shame,  is  straightway  fled : 
Now,  if  thou  be'st  a  pitying  god  of  power, 
On  whom  ruth  and  compassion  ever  waits,  20 

Redress  these  wrongs,  and  warn  him  to  his  ships. 
That  now  afiiicts  me  with  his  flattering  eyes. 

1  Scene :  a  room  in  Iarbas'  house. 

2  The  epithet  "gloomy,"  here  and  in   1.    2,    contrasts  oddly  with 
'■^  Fatfier  of  gladness  and  all  frolic  thoughts," 

3  Elissa  (Dido). 


SCENE  11.]      Dido,  Qtieen  of  Carthage.  351 

Enter  Anna. 

Anna.   How  now,  larbas  !  at  your  prayers  so  hard  ? 

lar.    Ay,    Anna  :    is    there    aught   you    would    with 
me? 

Anna.   Nay,  no  such  weighty  business  of  import 
But  may  be  slacked  until  another  time  : 
Yet,  if  you  would  partake  with  me  the  cause 
Of  this  devotion  that  detaineth  you, 
I  would  be  thankful  for  such  courtesy. 

lar.  Anna,  against  this  Trojan  do  I  pray,  30 

Who  seeks  to  rob  me  of  thy  sister's  love. 
And  dive  into  her  heart  by  colour'd  looks. 

Anna.  Alas,  poor  king,  that  labours  so  in  vain 
For  her  that  so  delighteth  in  thy  pain  ! 
Be  rul'd  by  me,  and  seek  some  other  love, 
iWhose  yielding  heart  may  yield  thee  more  relief. 
I     lar.  Mine  eye  is  fixed  where  fancy  cannot  start : 
O,  leave  me,  leave  me  to  my  silent  thoughts, 
That  register  the  numbers  of  my  ruth. 
And  I  will  either  move  the  thoughtless  flint,  40 

Or  drop  out  both  mine  eyes  in  drizzling  tears. 
Before  my  sorrow's  tide  have  any  stint ! 

Anna.  I  will  not  leave  larbas,  whom  I  love. 
In  this  delight  of  dying  pensiveness. 
Away  with  Dido  !  Anna  be  thy  song ; 
Anna,  that  doth  admire  thee  more  than  heaven. 

lar.   I  may  nor  will  list  to  such  loathsome  change, 
That  intercepts  the  course  of  my  desire. — 
Servants,  come  fetch  these  empty  vessels  here ; 


352  The  Tragedy  of  [act  iv. 

For  I  will  fly  from  these  alluring  eyes,  50 

That  do  pursue  my  peace  where'er  it  goes. 

\Exit. — Servants  re-enter,  and  carry  out  the  vessels,  6^^. 

Anna.  larbas,  stay,  loving  larbas,  stay  ! 
For  I  have  honey  to  present  thee  with. 
Hard-hearted,  wilt  not  deign  to  hear  me  speak  ? 
I'll  follow  thee  with  outcries  ne'ertheless, 
And  strew  thy  walks  with  my  dishevell'd  hair.         \_Exit. 


SCENE  III. 

Enter  ^neas.^ 

^n.  Carthage,  my  friendly  host,  adieu  ! 
Since  Destiny  doth  call  me  from  thy  ^  shore : 
Hermes  this  night,  descending  in  a  dream. 
Hath  summoned  me  to  fruitful  Italy  ; 
Jove  wills  it  so ;  my  mother  wills  it  so  : 
Let  my  Phoenissa  grant,  and  then  I  go. 
Grant  she  or  no,  ^neas  must  away  ; 
Whose  golden  fortunes,  clogg'd  with  courtly  ease. 
Cannot  ascend  to  fame's  immortal  house, 
Or  banquet  in  bright  Honour's  burnished  hall. 
Till  he  hath  furrowed  Neptune's  glassy  fields, 
And  cut  a  passage  through  his  topless^  hills. — 
Achates,  come  forth  !  Sergestus,  Ilioneus, 
Cloanthus,  haste  away  !  ^neas  calls. 


1  Scene  :  a  room  in  Dido's  palace. 

2  Old  ed.  "the." 

3  Cf.  Faustus,  scene  xiv. — "  And  burnt  the  topless  towers  of  Ilium." 


SCENE  III.]     Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  353 

Enter  Achates,  Cloanthus,  Sersestus,  and  Ilioneus. 

Ach.  What  wills  our  lord,  or  wherefore  did  he  call  ? 

yEn.  The  dreams,  brave  mates,  that  did  beset  my  bed, 
When  sleep  but  newly  had  embrac'd  the  night, 
Commands  me  leave  these  unrenowmbd  realms,^ 
Whereas  nobility  abhors  to  stay, 

And  none  but  base  ./^i^neas  will  abide.  20 

Aboard,  aboard  !  since  Fates  do  bid  aboard, 
And  slice  the  sea  with  sable-colour'd  ships, 
On  whom  the  nimble  winds  may  all  day  wait, 
And  follow  them,  as  footmen,  through  the  deep. 
Yet  Dido  casts  her  eyes,  like  anchors,  out. 
To  stay  my  fleet  from  loosing  forth  the  bay : 
"  Come  back,  come  back,"  I  hear  her  cry  a-far, 
"  And  let  me  link  thy  ^  body  to  my  lips, 
That,  tied  together  by  the  striving  tongues. 
We  may,  as  one,  sail  into  Italy."  30 

Ach.  Banish  that  ticing  dame  from  forth  your  mouth, 
And  follow  your  fore-seeing  stars  in  all : 
This  is  no  life  for  men-at-arms  to  live. 
Where  dalliance  doth  consume  a  soldier's  strength, 
And  wanton  motions  of  alluring  eyes 
Effeminate  our  minds,  inur'd  to  war. 

Hi.  Why,  let  us  build  a  city  of  our  own. 
And  not  stand  lingering  here  for  amorous  looks. 


'  Old  ed.  "  beames," — a  mistake,  as  Dyce  observed,  for  '"  reames  "  (a 
c  >mmon  form  of  "  realms  "). 
-■  Old  ed.  "  my." 
VOL.   II.  Z 


354  The  Tragedy  of  [activ. 

Will  Dido  raise  old  Priam  forth  his  grave, 

And  build  the  town  again  the  Greeks  did  burn  ?  40 

No,  no ;  she  cares  not  how  we  sink  or  swim, 

So  she  may  have  ^neas  in  her  arms. 

Clo.  To  Italy,  sweet  friends,  to  Italy  ! 
We  will  not  stay  a  minute  longer  here. 

^n.  Trojans,  aboard,  and  I  will  follow  you. 

\^Exeunt  all  except  ^Eneas. 
I  fain  would  go,  yet  beauty  calls  me  back  : 
To  leave  her  so,  and  not  once  say  farewell, 
Were  to  transgress  against  all  laws  of  love. 
But,  if  I  use  such  ceremonious  thanks 
As  parting  friends  accustom  on  the  shore,  50 

Her  silver  arms  will  coll  ^  me  round  about, 
And  tears  of  pearl  cry,  "Stay,  ^neas,  stay  !" 
Each  word  she  says  will  then  contain  a  crown. 
And  every  speech  be  ended  with  a  kiss  : 
I  may  not  dure  this  female  drudgery  : 
To  sea,  ^^neas  !  find  out  Italy  !  \^Exit. 


SCENE  IV. 

Enter  "^  Dido  and  hiitix. 

Dido.  O  Anna,  run  unto  the  water-side 
They  say  Eneas'  men  are  going  aboard  ; 
It  may  be,  he  will  steal  away  with  them  : 


1  "  Coll "  =  cling  round  the  neck. 
'  Scene  :  a  room  in  Dido's  palace. 


SCENE  IV.]     Dido^  Queen  of  Carthage.  355 

Stay  not  to  answer  me  :  run,  Anna,  run  !      \_Exit  Anna. 

0  foolish  Trojans,  that  would  steal  from  hence, 
And  not  let  Dido  understand  their  drift ! 

1  would  have  given  Achates  store  of  gold, 
And  Uioneus  gum  and  Libyan  spice ; 

The  common  soldiers  rich  embroider'd  coats. 

And  silver  whistles  to  control  the  winds,  10 

Which  Circe  ^  sent  Sichaeus  when  he  lived  : 

Unworthy  are  they  of  a  queen's  reward. 

See  where  they  come  :  how  might  I  do  to  chide  ? 

Re-enter  Anna,  %vith  ^neas,   Achates,    Cloanthus, 
Ilioneus,  Sergestus,  and  Carthaginian  Lords. 

Anna.  'Twas  time  to  run  ;  yEneas  had  been  gone  ; 
The  sails  were  hoising  up,  and  he  aboard. 

Dido.   Is  this  thy  love  to  me? 

^n.   O  princely  Dido,  give  me  leave  to  speak  ! 
I  went  to  take  my  farewell  of  Achates. 

Dido.   How  haps  Achates  bid  me  not  farewell? 

Ach.  Because  I  feared  your  grace  would  keep  me 
here.  20 

Dido.  To  rid  thee  of  that  doubt,  aboard  again  : 
I  charge  thee  put  to  sea,  and  stay  not  here. 

Ach.  Then  let  .^neas  go  aboard  with  us. 

Dido.  Get  you  aboard  ;  .^neas  means  to  stay. 

^n.  The  sea  is  rough,  the  winds  blow  to  the  shore. 

Dido.  O  false  ^neas  !  now  the  sea  is  rough ; 


1  Old  ed.  "Circes." 


356  The  Tragedy  of  [act  iv. 

But,  when  you  were  aboard,  'twas  calm  enough  : 
Thou  and  Achates  meant  to  sail  away. 

^n.  Hath  not  the  Carthage  queen  mine  only  son  ? 
Thinks  Dido  I  will  go  and  leave  him  here  ?  30 

Dido.  yEneas,  pardon  me ;  for  I  forgot 
That  young  Ascanius  lay  with  me  this  night ; 
Love  made  me  jealous  :  but,  to  make  amends, 
Wear  the  imperial  crown  of  Libya, 

[  Giving  him  her  crozvn  and  sceptre. 
Sway  thou  the  Punic  sceptre  in  my  stead. 
And  punish  me,  ^neas,  for  this  crime. 

^n.  This  kiss  shall  be  fair  Dido's  punisliment. 

Dido.   O,  how  a  crown  becomes  yEneas'  head  ! 
Stay  here,  ^neas,  and  command  as  king. 

yEtu   How  vain  am  I  to  wear  this  diadem,  40 

And  bear  this  golden  sceptre  in  my  hand  ! 
A  burgonet  of  steel,  and  not  a  crown, 
A  sword,  and  not  a  sceptre,  fits  ^neas. 

Dido.  O,  keep  them  still,  and  let  me  gaze  my  fill  !  , 

Now  looks  ^neas  like  immortal  Jove  :  1  \^,  '^-  ,/ 

O,  where  is  Ganymede,  to  hold  his  cup,     C^>-^^^f  fv,''^ 
And  Mercury,  4:0  fl.y  for  what  he  calls? 
Ten  thousand  Cupids  hover  in  the  air, 
And  fan  it  in  Eneas'  lovely  face  ! 

O,  that  the  clouds  were  here  wherein  thou  fled'st,^         50 
That  thou  and  I  unseen  might  sport  ourselves  ! 
Heaven,2  envious  of  our  joys,  is  waxen  pale  ; 

1  It  is  related  in  the  fifth  book  of  the  Iliad  how  Aphrodite  slirouded 
^neas  in  a  cloud  when  he  was  h  ard  pressed  by  Diomed. — Old  ed.  "  fleest. " 
'-  Old  ed.  "Heavens." 


^' 


SCENE  IV.]     Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  357 

And  when  we  whisper,  then  the  stars  fall  down, 
To  be  partakers  of  our  honey  talk. 

^n.   O  Dido,  patroness  of  all  our  lives, 
When  I  leave  thee,  death  be  my  punishment ! 
Swell,  raging  seas  !  frown,  wayward  Destinies ! 
Blow,  winds  !  threaten,  ye  rocks  and  sandy  shelves  ! 
This  is  the  harbour  that  ^-Eneas  seeks  : 
Let's  see  what  tempests  can  annoy  me  now.  60 

Dido.  Not  all  the  world  can  take  thee  from  mine  arms. 
.^Eneas  may  command  as  many  Moors 
As  in  the  sea  are  little  water-drops  : 
And  now,  to  make  experience  of  my  love, — 
Fair  sister  Anna,  lead  my  lover  forth, 
And,  seated  on  my  jennet,  let  him  ride. 
As  Dido's  husband,  through  the  Punic  streets  ; 
And  will  ^  my  guard,  with  Mauritanian  darts 
To  wait  upon  him  as  their  sovereign  lord. 

Anna.  What  if  the  citizens  repine  thereat  ?  70. 

Dido.  Those  that  dislike  what  Dido  gives  in  charge, 
Command  my  guard  to  slay  for  their  offence. 
Shall  vulgar  peasants  storm  at  what  I  do  ? 
The  ground  is  mine  that  gives  them  sustenance, 
The  air  wherein  they  breathe,  the  water,  fire, 
All  that  they  have,  their  lands,  their  goods,  their  lives  ! 
And  I,  the  goddess  of  all  these,  command 
^neas  ride  as  Carthaginian  king. 

Ach.  ^neas,  for  his  parentage,  deserves 
As  large  a  kingdom  as  is  Libva.  80 


1  Desire,  order. 


358  The  Tragedy  of  [activ. 

^n.  Ay,  and,  unless  the  Destinies  be  false, 
I  shall  be  planted  in  as  rich  a  land. 

Dido.  Speak  of  no  other  land  ;  this  land  is  thine ; 
,•    Dido  is  thine,  henceforth  I'll  call  thee  lord. — 
Do  as  I  bid  thee,  sister ;  lead  the  way  ; 
And  from  a  turret  I'll  behold  my  love. 

^n.  Then  here  in  me  shall  flourish  Priam's  race  ; 
And  thou  and  I,  Achates,  for  revenge 
For  Troy,  for  Priam,  for  his  fifty  sons. 
Our  kinsmen's  lives  ^  and  thousand  guiltless  souls,        90 
Will  lead  an  host  against  the  hateful  Greeks, 
And  fire  proud  Lacedaemon  o'er  their  heads. 

[Exeunt  all  except  Dido  and  Carthaginian  Lords. 

Dido.  Speaks  not  ^neas  like  a  conqueror  ? 
O  blessed  tempests  that  did  drive  him  in  ! 

0  happy  sand  that  made  him  run  aground  ! 
Henceforth  you  shall  be  [of]  our  Carthage  gods. 
Ay,  but  it  may  be,  he  will  leave  my  love, 

And  seek  a  foreign  land  called  Italy  : 
O,  that  I  had  a  charm  to  keep  the  winds  100 

Within  the  closure  of  a  golden  ball ; 
71        1     Or  that  the  Tyrrhene  sea  were  in  mine  arms, 
I     That  he  might  suffer  shipwreck  on  my  breast, 
As  oft  as  he  attempts  to  hoist  up  sail  ! 

1  must  prevent  him  ;  wishing  will  not  serve. — 
Go  bid  my  nurse  take  young  Ascanius, 

And  bear  him  in  the  country  to  her  house  ; 
..^neas  will  not  go  without  his  son ; 

1  Old  ed.  "  loues." 


SCENE  IV.]     Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  359 

Yet,  lest  he  should,  for  I  am  full  of  fear, 
Bring  me  his  oars,  his  tackhng,  and  his  sails.  1 10 

\Exit  First  Lord. 
What  if  I  sink  his  ships  ?  O,  he  will  frown  ! 
Better  he  frown  than  I  should  die  for  grief. 
I  cannot  see  him  frown ;  it  may  not  be  : 
Armies  of  foes  resolv'd  to  win  this  town. 
Or  impious  traitors  vow'd  to  have  my  life, 
Affright  me  not ;  only  Eneas'  frown 
Is  that  which  terrifies  poor  Dido's  heart ; 
Not  bloody  spears,  appearing  in  the  air, 
Presage  the  downfall  of  my  empery, 
Nor  blazing  comets  threaten  Dido's  death  ;  120 

It  is  Eneas'  frown  that  ends  my  days. 
If  he  forsake  me  not,  I  never  die ; 
For  in  his  looks  I  see  eternity. 
And  he'll  make  me  immortal '  with  a  kiss. 

Re-enter  First  Lord,  with  Attendants  carrying  tackling^ 

First  Lord.   Your  nurse  is  gone  with  young  Ascanius  : 
And  here's  Eneas'  tackling,  oars,  and  sails. 

Dido.  Are  these  the  sails  that,  in  despite  of  me, 
Pack'd  -  with  the  winds  to  bear  ^neas  hence  ? 
I'll  hang  ye  in  the  chamber  where  I  lie ; 
Drive,  if  you  can,  my  house  to  Italy  :  130 

I'll  set  the  casement  open,  that  the  winds 

•  Cf.  Faustus: — 

"  Sweet  Helen,  make  me  itnmortiil  with  a  iiss.'' 
2  Intrigued. 


J 


60  The  Tragedy  of  [act  iv. 


May  enter  in,  and  once  again  conspire 

Against  the  life  of  me,  poor  Carthage  queen  : 

But,  though  ye  ^  go,  he  stays  in  Carthage  still ; 

And  let  rich  Carthage  fleet  ^  upon  the  seas, 

So  I  may  have  ^neas  in  mine  arms. 

Is  this  the  wood  that  grew  in  Carthage  plains, 

And  would  be  toiling  in  the  watery  billows, 

To  rob  their  mistress  of  her  Trojan  guest? 

O  cursed  tree,  hadst  thou  but  wit  or  sense,  140 

To  measure  how  I  prize  Eneas'  love. 

Thou  wouldst  have  leapt  from  out  the  sailors'  hands, 

And  told  me  that  ^neas  meant  to  go  ! 

And  yet  I  blame  thee  not ;  thou  art  but  wood. 

The  water,  which  our  poets  term  a  nymph, ^ 

Why  did  it  suffer  thee  to  touch  her  breast, 

And  shrunk  not  back,  knowing  my  love  was  there  ? 

The  water  is  an  element,  no  nymph. 

Why  should  I  blame  .^neas  for  his  flight? 

O  Dido,  blame  not  him,  but  break  his  oars  !  130 

These    were    the    instruments    that    launched    him 

forth. 
There's  not  so  much  as  this  base  tackling  too, 
But  dares  to  heap  up  sorrow  to  my  heart  : 
Was  it  not  you  that  hoised  up  these  sails  ? 
Why  burst  you  not,  and  they  fell  in  the  seas  ? 
For  this  will  Dido  tie  ye  full  of  knots, 
And  shear  ye  all  asunder  with  her  hands  : 


1  Olded.  "he."  a  pioat. 

*  Lat.  lymjka  is  the  same  word  as  Nympha. 


SCENE  v.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  361 

Now  serve  to  chastise  shipboys  for  their  faults ; 

Ye  shall  no  more  offend  the  Carthage  queen. 

Now,  let  him  hang  my  favours  on  his  masts,  160 

And  see  if  those  will  serve  instead  of  sails  ; 

For  tackling,  let  him  take  the  chains  of  gold. 

Which  I  bestovv'd  upon  his  followers ; 

Instead  of  oars,  let  him  use  his  hands, 

And  swim  to  Italy.     I'll  keep  these  sure. — 

Come,  bear  them  in.  [^Exeunt. 


SCENE  V. 
Enter  ^  Nurse,  with  Cupid  as  Ascanius. 

Nurse.  My  Lord  Ascanius,  you  must  go  with  me. 

Ct/p.   Whither  must  I  go  ?     I'll  stay  with  my  mother. 

Aurse.   No,  thou  shalt  go  with  me  unto  my  house. 
I  have  an  orchard  that  hath  store  of  plums, 
Brown  almonds,  services,  ripe  figs,  and  dates, 
Dewberries,  apples,  yellow  oranges  ; 
A  garden  where  are  bee-hives  full  of  honey, 
Musk-roses,  and  a  thousand  sort  of  flowers  ; 
And  in  the  midst  doth  run  a  silver  stream, 
Where  thou  shalt  see  the  red-gill'd  fishes  leap,  10 

White  swans,  and  many  lovely  water-fowls. 
Now  speak,  Ascanius,  will  you  go  or  no? 

Cup.  Come,  come,  I'll  go.     How  far  hence  is  your 
house  ? 

1  Scene :  the  open  country  near  Carthage. 


362  Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.        [act  iv. 

Nurse.   But    hereby,    child ;    we    shall  get    thither 
straight. 

Cup.   Nurse,  I  am  weary  ;  will  you  carry  me? 

Nurse.  Ay,  so  you'll  dwell  with  me,  and  call  me  mother. 

Cup.  So  you'll  love  me,  I  care  not  if  I  do. 

Nurse.  That  I  might  live  to  see  this  boy  a  man ! 
How  prettily  he  laughs  !     Go  [to],  ye  wag !  ^ 
You'll  be  a  twigger  ^  when  you  come  to  age. —  20 

Say  Dido  what  she  will,  I  am  not  old  ; 
I'll  be  no  more  a  widow  ;  I  am  young ; 
I'll  have  a  husband,  or  else  a  lover. 

Cup.  A  husband,  and  no  teeth  ! 

Nurse.  O,  what  mean  I  to  have  such  foolish  thoughts  ? 
Foolish  is  love,  a  toy. — 0  sacred  love  ! 
If  there  be  any  heaven  in  earth,  'tis  love, 
Especially  in  women  of  your  years. — 
Blush,   blush  for  shame  !    why   shouldst  thou  think  of 

love  ? 
A  grave,  and  not  a  lover,  fits  thy  age. —  30 

A  grave  !  why,  I  may  live  a  hundred  years  ; 
Fourscore  is  but  a  girl's  age  :  love  is  sweet. — 
My  veins  are  withered,  and  my  sinews  dry  : 
Why  do  I  think  of  love,  now  I  should  die  ? 

Cup.   Come,  nurse. 

Nurse.  Well,  if  he  come  a-wooing,  he  shall  speed  : 
O,  how  unwise  was  I  to  say  him  nay  !  \Exeuni. 


1  The  reader  will  be  reminded  of  Juliet's  Nurse.     The  word  to  is 
inserted  at  the  suggestion  of  a  critic  in  the  AthencBum  (No.  2977). 

2  Wencher. 


(     3^3     ) 


ACT  V. 

SCENE    I. 

Enter  ^neas/  with  a  paper  in  his  hand,  draining  the 
platform  ^  of  the  city  ;  Achates,  Sergestus,  Cloan- 
THUS,  and  Ilioneus. 

yEn.  Triumph,  my  mates  !  our  travels  are  at  end  : 
Here  will  ^neas  build  a  statelier  Troy 
Than  that  which  grim  Atrides  overthrew. 
Carthage  shall  vaunt  her  petty  walls  no  more ; 
For  I  will  grace  them  with  a  fairer  frame, 
And  clad  her  in  a  crystal  livery, 
Wherein  the  day  may  evermore  delight ; 
From  golden  India  Ganges  will  I  fetch, 
Whose  wealthy  streams  may  wait  upon  her  towers, 
And  triple-wise  entrench  her  round  about ;  lo 

The  sun  from  Egypt  shall  rich  odours  bring, 
Wherewith  his  burning  beams  (like  labouring  bees 
That  load  their  thighs  with  Hybla's  honey-spoils)^ 

1  Scene :  a  room  in  Dido's  palace. 

2  Plan. 

3  Old  ed.  "  honeys  spoyles," 


364  The  Tragedy  of  [act  v. 

Shall  here  unburden  their  exhaled  sweets, 

And  plant  our  pleasant  suburbs  with  their  ^  fumes. 

Ach.  What  length  or  breadth  shall   this  brave  town 
contain  ? 

^-En.   Not  past  four  thousand  paces  at  the  most. 

Mi.   But  what  shall  it  be  call'd  ?     Troy,  as  before  ? 

^n.  That  have  I  not  determin'd  with  myself. 

Clo.  Let  it  be  term'd  ^nea,  by  your  name.  20 

Serg.  Rather  Ascania,  by  your  little  son. 

j^n.   Nay,  I  will  have  it  called  Anchisaeon, 
Of  my  old  father's  name.  ' 

Enter  Hermes  with  Ascanius. 

Her.  ^neas,  stay;  Jove's  herald  bids  thee  stay. 

^n.  Whom  do  I  see  ?     Jove's  winged  messenger  ! 
Welcome  to  Carthage  new-erected  town. 

Her.  Why,  cousin,  stand  you  building  cities  here. 
And  beautifying  the  em[)ire  of  this  queen, 
While  Italy  is  clean  out  of  thy  mind? 
Too-too  forgetful  of  thine  own  affairs,  30 

Why  wilt  thou  so  betray  thy  son's  good  hap  ? 
The  king  of  gods  sent  me  from  highest  heaven. 
To  sound  this  angry  message  in  thine  ears  : 
Vain  man,  what  monarchy  expect'st  thou  here  ? 
Or  with  what  thought  sleep'st  thou  in  Libya  shore  ? 
If  that  all  glory  hath  forsaken  thee, 
And  thou  despise  the  praise  of  such  attempts, 
,Yet_lh ink  upon  Ascanius'  prophecy, 

1  Old  ed.  "her."  In  the  Athenceutn  for  loth  May  1884,  Dr.  Karl 
Elze  makes  the  plausible  emendation,  "  And  scent  our  pleasant  suburbs 
with  perfumes." 


SCENE  I.]       Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  365 

And  young  lulus'  more  than  thousand  years, 

Wnom  I  have  brought  from  Ida,  where  he  slept,  4° 

And  bore  young  Cupid  unto  Cyprus'  isle. 

^n.  This  was  my  mother  that  beguil'd  the  queen, 
And  made  me  take  my  brother  for  my  son  : 
No  marvel,  Dido,  though  thou  be  in  love, 
That  daily  dandiest  Cupid  in  thy  arms. — 
VVeTcbme,^  sweet  child  :  where  hast  thou  been  this  long  ? 

Asc.   Eating  sweet  comfits  with  Queen  Dido's  maid. 
Whoever  since  hath  luU'd  me  in  her  arms. 

^n.   Sergestus,  bear  him  hence  unto  our  ships, 
Lest  Dido,  spying  hhn,  keep  him  for  a  pledge.  5<^ 

[.Cj;//' Sergestus  7£'/M  AscANi us. 

Her.  Spend'st  thou  thy  time  about  this  little  boy,  /i/VCsC^    U  ■■^'■m 
And  giv'st  not  ear  unto  the  charge  I  bring?  -  1  ^,     -    -'' 

I  tell  thee,  thou  must  straight  to  Italy, 
Or  else  abide  the  wrath  of  frowning  Jove.  \^Exit. 

^n.   How  should  I  put  into  the  raging  deep. 
Who  have  no  sails  nor  tackling  for  my  ships  ? 
What  ?  would  the  gods  have  me,  Deucalion-like, 
Float  up  and  down  where'er  the  billows  drive? 
Though  she  repair'd  my  fleet  and  gave  me  ships. 
Yet  hath  she  ta'en  away  my  oars  and  masts,  60 

And  left  me  neither  sail  nor  stern  ^  aboard. 

Enter  Iarbas. 
Jar.  How  now,  ^'Eneas !  sad  !  what  means  these  dumps  ? 


1  Rudder.     Cf.  i  Henry  VI.,  i.  i  :— 

"  The  king  from  Eltham  I  intend  to  send, 
And  sit  at  chiefest  stern  of  public  weal." 


^ 


366  The  Tragedy  of  [act  v. 

^n.  larbas,  I  am  clean  besides  myself; 
Jove  hath  heaped  on  me  such  a  desperate  charge, 
Which  neither  art  nor  reason  may  achieve, 
Nor  I  devise  by  what  means  to  contrive. 

lar.  As  how,  I  pray  ?  may  I  entreat  you  tell  ? 

^n.   With  speed  he  bids  me  sail  to  Italy, 
Whenas  I  want  both  rigging  for  my  fleet. 
And  also  furniture  for  these  my  men.  70 

lar.   If  that  be  all,  then  cheer  thy  drooping  looks, 
For  I  will  furnish  thee  with  such  supplies. 
Let  some  of  those  thy  followers  go  with  me, 
And  they  shall  have  what  thing  soe'er  thou  need'st. 

^n.   Thanks,  good  larbas,  for  thy  friendly  aid  : 
Achates  and  the  rest  shall  wait  on  thee. 
Whilst  I  rest  thankful  for  this  courtesy. 

\_Exeunt  all  except  ^^neas. 
Now  will  I  haste  unto  Lavinian  shore, 
And  raise  a  new  foundation  to  old  Troy. 
Witness  the  gods,  and  witness  heaven  and  earth,  80 

How  loath  I  am  to  leave  these  Libyan  bounds, 
But  that  eternal  Jupiter  commands  ! 

Enter  Dido. 

Dido.  I  fear  I  saw  Eneas'  little  son 
Led  by  Achates  ^  to  the  Trojan  fleet. 
If  it  be  so,  his  father  means  to  fly  : — 
But  here  he  is;  now.  Dido,  try  thy  wit. —  \Aside. 

^neas,  wherefore  go  thy  men  aboard  ? 


At  1.  50  the  stage-direction  was  "  Exit  Sergestvs  with  Ascanius." 


SCENE  I.]      Didoy  Queen  of  Carthage.  367 

Why  are  thy  ships  new-rigged  ?  or  to  what  end, 
Launched  from  the  haven,  lie  they  in  the  road  ? 
Pardon  me,  though  I  ask  ;  love  makes  me  ask.  90 

^«.  O,  pardon  me,  if  I  resolve  thee  why  ! 
^neas  will  not  feign  with  his  dear  love. 
I  mnst  from  hence  :  this  day,  swift  Mercury, 
When  I  was  laying  a  platform  ^  for  these  walls, 
Sent  from  his  father  Jove,  appear'd  to  me,  1 

And  in  his  name  rebuk'd  me  bitterly 
For  lingenng  here,  neglecting  Italy. 

Dido.  But  yet  ^neas  will  not  leave  his  love. 

ALn.   I  am  commanded  by  immortaljove 
To  leave  this  town  and  pass  to  Italy;  100 

And  therefore  must  of  force. 

Dido.  These  words  proceed  not  from  .Eneas'  heart. 

^n.  Not  from  my  heart,  for  I  can  hardly  go ; 
And  yet  I  may  not  stay.     Dido,  farewell. 

Dido.  Farewell !  is  this  the  'mends  for  Dido's  love  ? 
Do  Trojans  use  to  quit^  their  lovers  thus? 
Fare  well  may  Dido,  so  ^neas  stay  ; 
I  die,  if  my  yEneas  say  farewell. 

^n.  Then  let  me  go,  and  never  say  farewell : 
Let  me  go  ;  farewell :  ^  I  must  from  hence.  1 10 

Dido.  These  words  are  poison  to  poor  Dido's  soul : 
O,  speak  like  my  yEneas,  like  my  love  ! 


1  Plan. 

-  Requite. 

*  A  word  which  it  is  not  easy  to  supply  has  been  omitted.  Dyce's 
"farewell  [none]''  and  Cunningham's  "  Let  me  go  is  farewell"  are 
equally  unsatisfactory. 


o 


68  The  T7'agedy  of  [act  v. 


Why  look's!  thou  toward  the  sea  ?  the  time  hath  been 

When  Dido's  beauty  chain'd  ^  thine  eyes  to  her. 

Am  I  less  fair  than  when  thou  saw'st  me  first  ? 

O,  then,  ^neas,  'tis  for  grief  of  thee  ! 

Say  thou  wilt  stay  in  Carthage  with  thy  -  queen, 

And  Dido's  beauty  will  return  again. 

yEneaS;  say,  how  can'st  thou  take  thy  leave  ? 

Wilt  thou  kiss  Dido  ?     O,  thy  lips  have  sworn  120 

To  stay  with  Dido  !  canst  thou  take  her  hand  ? 

Thy  hand  and  mine  have  plighted  mutual  faith  ; 

Therefore,  unkind  ^neas,  must  thou  say, 

"  Then  let  me  go,  and  never  say  farewell  ?  " 

^n.  O  queen  of  Carthage,  wert  thou  ugly-black, 
^neas  could  not  choose  but  hold  thee  dear  ! 
Yet  must  he  not  gainsay  the  gods'  behest. 

Dido.  The  gods  !  what  gods  be  those  that  seek  my 
death  ? 
Wherein  have  I  offended  Jupiter, 

That  he  should  take  ^neas  from  mine  arms  ?  130 

O  no  !  the  gods  weigh  not  what  lovers  do  : 
It  is  ^Eneas  calls  ^neas  hence  ; 
And  woful  Dido,  by  these  blubber'd  ^  cheeks, 
By  this  right  hand,  and  by  our  spousal  rites. 
Desires  ^Eneas  to  remain  with  her ; 
Si  *  be7ie  quid  de  te  tnerui,  fitit  aid  iibi  quidqimm 


^  Old  ed.  "chaunged." 

-  Old  ed.  "my." 

*  Cf.  I  Tamburlaine,  v.  i,  1.  21. 

''  Virgil,  j^n.  iv.  317. 


SCENE  I  ]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  369 

Duke  meum,  miserere  dotnus  labentis,  et  istam, 
Oro,  si  quis  adhuc  ^  precibus  locus,  exue  merit  em. 

yEn.  Desine  -  tneque  iuis  incendere  teque  qtterelis  ; 
Italiam  non  spotite  sequor.  140 

Dido.  Hast  thou  forgot  how  many  neighbour  kings 
Were  up  in  arms,  for  making  thee  my  love  ? 
How  Carthage  did  rebel,  larbas  storm, 
And  all  the  world  calls  me  a  second  Helen, 
For  being  entangled  by  a  stranger's  looks  ? 
So  thou  wouldst  prove  as  true  as  Paris  did, 
Would,  as  fair  Troy  was,  Carthage  might  be  sack'd, 
And  I  be  called  a  second  Helena  ! 
Had  I_a  son  by  thee,  the  grief  were  less, 
-^hat  I  might  jee  ^neas  in  his  face  :  150 

Now  if  thou  go'st,  what  canst  thou  leave  behind, 
But  rather  will  augment  than  ease  my  woe  ? 

^ti.  In    vain,  my   love,  thou    spend'st   thy   fainting 
breath : 
If  words  might  move  me,  I  were  overcome. 

Dido.  And  wilt  thou  not  be  mov'd  with  Dido's  words  ? 
Thy'^  mother  was  no  goddess,  perjured  man, 
Nor  Dardanus  the  author  of  thy  stock  ; 
But  thou  art  sprung  from  Scythian  Caucasus, 
And  tigers  of  Hyrcania  gave  thee  suck. — 
Ah,  foolish  Dido,  to  forbear  this  long  ! —  160 

1  Old  ed.  "ad  hasc." 
-  Virgil,  ^n.  iv.  360. 
5  Cf.  Virgil,  ALn.  iv.  365-7  : — 

"Nee  tibi  diva  parens,  generis  nee  Dardanus  auctor, 
Perfide  ;  sed  duris  genuit  te  cautibus  horrens 
Caucasus,  Hycanaeque  admorunt  ubera  tigres." 
VOL.   II.  2    A 


3  JO  The  Tragedy  of  [act  v. 

Wast  thou  not  wrecked  upon  this  Libyan  shore, 
And  cam'st  to  Dido  like  a  fisher  swain  ? 
,^   "^^  Repaired  not  I  thy  ships,  made  thee  a  king, 
t         V    .  ^  And  all  thy  needy  followers  noblemen  ? 

0  serpent,  that  came  creeping  from  the  shore, 
And  I  for  pity  harbour'd  in  my  bosom, 

Wilt  thou  now  slay  me  with  thy  venomed  sting. 
And  hiss  at  Dido  for  preserving  thee  ? 
Go,  go,  and  spare  not ;  seek  out  Italy  : 

1  hope  that  that  which  love  forbids  me  do,  170 
The  rocks  and  sea-gulfs  will  perform  at  large. 

And  thou  shalt  perish  in  the  billows'  ways 

To  whom  poor  Dido  doth  bequeath  revenge  : 

Ay,  traitor  !  and  the  waves  shall  cast  thee  up, 

Where  thou  and  false  Achates  first  set  foot ; 

Which  if  it  chance,  I'll  give  ye  burial,  / 

And  weep  upon  your  lifeless  carcasses. 

Though  thou  nor  he  will  pity  me  a  whit. 

Why  starest  thou  in  my  face  ?     If  thou  wilt  stay, 

Leap  in  mine  arms ;  mine  arms  are  open  wide  ;  180 

If  not,  turn  from  me,  and  I'll  turn  from  thee  ; 

For  though  thou  hast  the  heart  to  say  farewell, 

I  have  not  power  to  stay  thee.  \Exit  ^neas. 

Is  he  gone  ? 
Ay,  but  he'll  come  again  ;  he  cannot  go  ; 
He  loves  me  too-too  well  to  serve  me  so  : 
Yet  he  that  in  my  sight  would  not  relent, 
Will,  being  absent,  be  obdurate  ^  stilL 
By  this,  is  he  got  to  the  water-side  ; 

1  Old  ed.  "abdurate." 


SCENE  I.]       Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  3  7 1 

And,  see,  the  sailors  take  him  by  the  hand  ; 
But  he  shrinks  back  ;  and  now  remembering  me,        190 
Returns  amain  :  welcome,  welcome,  my  love  ! 
But  Where's  ^neas  ?  ah,  he's  gone,  he's  gone  ! 
Enter  Anna. 

Anna.  What  means  my  sister,  thus  to  rave  and  cry? 

Dido.  O  Anna,  my  ^neas  is  aboard, 
And,  leaving  me,  will  sail  to  Italy  ! 
Once  didst  thou  go,  and  he  came  back  again  : 
Now  bring  him  back,  and  thou  shalt  be  a  queen, 
And  I  will  live  a  private  life  with  him. 

Anna.   Wicked  ^neas  ! 

Dido.  Call  him  not  wicked,  sister :  speak  him  fair,  200 
And  look  upon  him  with  a  mermaid's  eye  ; 
Tell  him,  I  never  vow'd  at  Aulis'  gulf 
The  desolation  of  his  native  Troy, 
Nor  sent  a  thousand  ships  unto  the  walls. 
Nor  ever  violated  faith  to  him  ; 
Request  him  gently,  Anna,  to  return  : 
I  crave  but  this, — he  stay  a  tide  or  two, 
That  I  may  learn  to  bear  it  patiently ; 
If  he  depart  thus  suddenly,  I  die. 
Run,  Anna,  run  ;  stay  not  to  answer  me.  210 

Anna.   I  go,  fair  sister  :  heavens  grant  good  success  ! 

[  Exit. 
Enter  Nurse. 

Nurse.  O  Dido,  your  little  son  Ascanius 
Is  gone  !  he  lay  with  me  last  night, 
And  in  the  morning  he  was  stoln  from  me : 
I  think  some  fairies  have  beguilt;d  me. 


^' 


'372  The  Tragedy  of  [act  v. 

Dido.  O  cursed  hag  and  false  dissembling  wretch, 
That  slay'st  me  with  thy  harsh  and  hellish  tale  ! 
Thou  for  some  petty  gift  hast  let  him  go, 
And  I  am  thus  deluded  of  my  boy. — 
Away  with  her  to  prison  presently,  220 

Enter  Attendants. 

Trait'ress  too  kenned  ^  and  cursed  sorceress  ! 

Nurse.   I  know  not  what  you  mean  by  treason,  I ; 
I  am  as  true  as  any  one  of  yours. 

Dido.  Away  with  her  !  suffer  her  not  to  speak, 

\_Exit  Nurse  7vith  Attendants. 
My  sister  comes  :  I  like  not  her  sad  looks. 


y 


Re-enter  Anna. 


Anna.  Before  I  came,  vEneas  was  aboard, 
And,  spying  me,  hoist  up  the  sails  amain  ; 
But  I  cried  out,  "yEneas,  false  ^neas,  stay  ! " 
^"^^  Then  gan  he  wag  his  hand,  which,  yet  held  up, 

Made  me  suppose  he  would  have  heard  me  speak  j     230 
Then  gan  they  drive  into  the  ocean  : 
I  Which  when  I  vievv'd,  I  cried,  "  ^neas,  stay  ! 
f  Dido,  fair  Dido  wills  ^neas  stay  !  " 
Yet  he,  whose  heart['s]  of  adamant  or  flint, 
My  tears  nor  plaints  could  mollify  a  whit. 
Then  carelessly  I  rent  my  hair  for  grief : 
Which  seen  to  all,  though  he  beheld  me  not, 
They  gan  to  move  him  to  redress  my  ruth, 

1  Old   ed.   "keend."     If  "kenned"  is  the  right  reading,    we   muat 
suppose  the  meaning  to  be  "  too  clearly  perceived." 


SCENE  I.]       Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  373 

And  stay  a  while  to  hear  what  I  could  say  ; 

But  he,  clapp'd  under  hatches,  sail'd  away.  240 

Dido.  O  Anna,  Anna,  I  will  follow  him  ! 

Anna.  How  can  you  go,  when  he  hath  all  your  fleet  ? 

Dido.  I'll  frame  me  wings  of  wax,  like  Icarus, 
And,  o'er  his  ships,  will  soar  unto  the  sun. 
That  they  may  melt,  and  I  fall  in  his  arms  ; 
Or  else  I'll  make  a  prayer  unto  the  waves. 
That  I  may  swim  to  him,  like  Triton's  niece. 
O  Anna,  [Anna,i]  fetch  Arion's  ^  harp. 
That  I  may  tice  a  dolphin  to  the  shore. 
And  ride  upon  his  back  unto  my  love  !  250 

Look,  sister,  look  !  lovely  ^Eneas'  ships  ! 
See,  see,  the  billows  heave  him  ^  up  to  heaven. 
And  now  down  falls  the  keels  into  the  deep  ! 
O  sister,  sister,  take  away  the  rocks  ! 
They'll  break  his  ships.     O  Proteus,  Neptune,  Jove, 
Save,  save  ^neas.  Dido's  liefest  "*  love  ! 
Now  is  he  come  on  shore,  safe  without  hurt : 
But,  see.  Achates  wills  him  put  to  sea. 
And  all  the  sailors  merry-make  for  joy  ; 
But  he,  remembering  me,  shrinks  back  again  :  260 

See,  where  he  comes !  welcome,  welcome,  my  love  ! 

Anna.  Ah,  sister,  leave  these  idle  fantasies  !  ,  .    c.,\^'yV. 

Sweet  sister,  cease  ;  remember  who  you  are.    Ljr^  ^     '^'       I 

1  I  have  repeated  "Anna"  for  the  sake  of  the  metre.     Cf.  1.  241. 

2  Old  ed.  "Orions." 

3  Dyce's  correction  "  'em"  seems  unnecessary. 
*  Dearest.     Cf.  2  Henry  V/.,  iii.  i  : — 

"  And  with  your  best  endeavours  have  stirred  up 
My  liefest  liege  to  be  mine  enemy." 


3  74  ^^^^  Tragedy  of  [act  v. 

Dido.   Dido  I  am,  unless  I  be  deceiv'd  : 
And  must  I  rave  thus  for  a  runagate  ? 
Must  I  make  ships  for  him  to  sail  away? 
Nothing  can  bear  me  to  him  but  a  ship, 
And  he  hath  all  my  ^  fleet. — What  shall  I  do, 
But  die  in  fury  of  this  oversight? 

Ay  ;  I  must  be  the  murderer  of  my  self:  270 

No,  but  I  am  not ;  yet  I  will  be  straight. —  [Aside. 

Anna,  be  glad ;  now  have  I  found  a  mean 
To  rid  me  from  these  thoughts  of  lunacy : 
Not  far  from  hence 
There  is  a  woman  famoused  for  arts, 
Daughter  ^  unto  the  nymphs  Hesperides, 
Who  will'd  me  sacrifice  his  ticing  relics  : 
Go,  Anna,  bid  my  servants  bring  me  fire.     [Exi'f  Anna. 

Enter  Iarbas. 
lar.   How  long  will  Dido  mourn  a  stranger's  flight 
That  hath  dishonoured  her  and  Carthage  both  ?  280 

How  long  shall  I  with  grief  consume  my  days, 
And  reap  no  guerdon  for  my  truest  love  ? 

Enter  Attendants  with  wood  and  torches. 
Dido.   Iarbas,  talk  not  of  y^ineas  ;  let  him  go  : 
Lay  to  thy  hands,  and  help  me  make  a  fire, 
That  shall  consume  all  that  this  stranger  left ; 
For  I  intend  a  private  sacrifice. 
To  cure  my  mind,  that  melts  for  unkind  love. 

1  Old  ed.  "  thy." 

*  "Daughter"  is  nonsense.      Should  we  read  "Guardian    to"  (or 
"unto")?    Cf.  Virg.  yEn.  iv.  484:  — 

"  Hesperidum  tempi!  custos." 


SCENE  1.]      Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  375 

lar.   But  afterwards,  will  Dido  grant  me  love  ? 

Dido.  Ay,  ay,  larbas  ;  after  this  is  done, 
None  in  the  world  shall  have  my  love  but  thou.  290 

\They  make  a  fire. 
So  leave  me  now ;  let  none  approach  this  place. 

\^Exeunt  Iarbas  and  Attendants. 
Now,  Dido,  with  these  relics  burn  thyself, 
And  make  -^neas  famous  through  the  world 
For  perjury  and  slaughter  of  a  queen. 
Here  lie  ^  the  sword  that  in  the  darksome  cave 
He  drew,  and  swore  by,  to  be  true  to  me  ; 
Thou  shalt  burn  first ;  tliy  crime  is  worse  than  his. 
Here  lie  the  garment  which  I  cloth'd  him  in 
When  first  he  came  on  shore  ;  perish  thou  too. 
These  letters,  lines,  and  perjur'd  papers,  all  300 

Shall  burn  to  cinders  in  this  precious  flame. 
And  now,  ye  gods,  that  guide  the  starry  frame, 
And  order  all  things  at  your  high  dispose, 
Grant,  though  the  traitors  land  in  Italy, 

They  may  be  still  tormented  with  unrest;  •    ;' 

And  from  mine  ashes  let  a  conqueror^rise,    /j.  -)jZ/ 
That  may  revenge  this  treason  to  a  queen 

By  ploughing  up  his  countries  with  the  sword  !  j^^  ^A 

Betwixt  this  land  and  that  be  never  league  ; 
Litora-  litoribus  contraria,  fluctibus  undas  310 

Imprecor,  anna  arniis  ;  pu^neut  ipsique  nepotcs  !  ^ 


1  Here  and  in  1.  298  Dyce  needlessly  reads  "  lies." 

2  Virg.  ^n.  iv.  628. 

2  The  beat  editions  of  Virgil  read  "  ipsique  nepotesque.^^ 


376  Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  [act  v. 

Live,  false  ^^neas  ;  truest  Dido  dies ; 
Sic}  sic  juvat  ire  sub  umbras. 

[  Th  rows  herself  into  the  fla  mes. 

Re-enter  Anna. 
Anna.  O,  help,  larbas !  Dido  in  these  flames 
Hath  burnt  herself!  ay  me,  unhappy  me  ! 

Re-enter  I  areas,  running. 

lar.  Cursed  larbas,  die  to  expiate 
The  grief  that  tires  ^  upon  thine  inward  soul ! — 
Dido,  I  come  to  thee. — Ay  me,  ^neas  ! 

\Stabs  himself,  and  dies. 

Anna.  What  can  my  tears  or  cries  prevail^  me  now 
Dido  is  dead  !  320 

larbas  slain,  larbas  my  dear  love  ! 
O  sweet  larbas,  Anna's  sole  delight ! 
What  fatal  destiny  envies  me  thus, 
To  see  my  sweet  larbas  slay  himself? 
But  Anna  now  shall  honour  thee  in  death, 
And  mix  her  blood  with  thine ;  this  shall  I  do, 
That  gods  and  men  may  pity  this  my  death. 
And  rue  our  ends,  senseless  of  life  or  breath : 
Now,  sweet  larbas,  stay  !  I  come  to  thee. 

\Stabs  herself,  and  dies. 

1  Virg.  j^n.  iv.  660.  -  Preys.  '^  Avail. 

END    OF    VOL.    II. 


/^ 


M 


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